LIBRARY 

f  luological  ^emiuartt, 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

BX  5207    .H38  L5  1849 

i 

Life  and  times  of  the  Rev. 
Philip  Henry,  M.  A.,  fathej 

  1 

\ 

'I'he  John  >I.  Krebs  Donation.  | 

J 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


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* 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

OF  THE 

REV.    PHILIP   HENRY     M.  A. 


i-tiiii)  Hcury  ai.a  hie  laiiicr  iru-Jog  on  Utarles  1.  K  Wluua^an,  »Ui.L 
gwDg  to  his  TriaL— Paige  51. 


THOMAS  NEI^ON.  LONDON  AND  EDrXBUKGH. 

MDCCCXLVm. 


l/ 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 


07THB 


REV.  PHILIP  HENRY,  M.A., 


Peace  to  the  jiist  maui's  memory, — let  it  grow 
Oreener  with  years,  and  blossom  through  the  flight 
Of  ages ;  let  the  mimic  canvass  show 
PTiH  calm  benevolent  features  ;  let  the  Qght 
Stream  on  his  deeds  of  love,  that  shunntd  the  sight 
Of  all  but  Heaven ;  and,  in  the  book  of  fame. 
The  glorious  record  of  his  virtues  write. 
And  hold  it  up  to  men,  and  bid  them  claim 
A  palm  like  his,  and  catch  from  him  the  ha^owed  £anie. 


NEW  YORK: 
ROBERT  CARTER   &  BROTHERS, 
No.  285  BROADWAY. 


JFati)n;  of  ff)t 


©ommnttator. 


Bbtaxx. 


1849. 


PKEFACE. 


The  Life  of  Philip  Henry,  from  the  pen  of  his  pious  and 
gifted  son,  has  long  been  regarded  as  one  of  the  most 
valuable  biographic  treasures  in  the  English  language 
Sir  J.  B.  Williams,  in  the  preface  to  his  latest  edition  of 
this  life,  quotes  the  opinions  of  writers  distinguished  for 
piety  and  worth,  both  among  Chm-chmen  and  Dissenters, 
who  have  successively  referred  to  it  for  upwards  of  a  cen- 
tury, as  exhibiting  one  of  the  most  dehghtful  examples  of 
eminent  piety,  prudence,  humility,  zeal,  and  moderation, 
which  the  history  of  the  Christian  Church  has  to  produce. 
In  accordance  with  these  united  testimonies  to  the  value 
of  this  biography.  Sir  J.  B.  Williams  remarks,  that,  "  to 
have  made  alterations,  or  to  have  done  otherwise  than 
reprint,  would  have  been  to  destroy  the  charm  which  will 
ever  attend  the  volume,  as  a  memorial  of  strict  fidelity  and 
filial  affection ;  as  distinguished  also  by  an  enviable  sim- 
pKcity,  and  a  naivete  of  expression,  in  perfect  unison  with 
the  subject." 

Without  in  any  degree  questioning  the  justness  of  these 


▼i  ■  PREFACE. 

remarks,  or  the  value  of  the  edition  of  Matthew  Henry's 
life  of  his  father,  so  ably  and  faithfully  edited  by  Sir  J. 
B.  WilKams,  a  very  different  system  has  been  adopted  in 
the  following  biography.  The  Life  of  Phihp  Henry,  by  his 
son,  has  been  adopted  as  the  basis  of  the  work,  and  im- 
plicitly followed  as  the  best  authority  on  every  point  of 
his  domestic  history.  A  book,  however,  which  was  wiit- 
ten  in  the  seventeenth  century,  for  the  perusal  of  those 
who  were  familiar  with  all  the  public  events  of  the  period 
to  which  it  referred,  necessarily  requires  revision,  expan- 
sion, and  illustration,  to  render  it  equally  intelligible  to 
readers  of  the  nineteenth  centmy.  In  the  following  vol- 
ume, accordingly,  the  leading  occurrences  of  the  event- 
ful period  of  EngHsh  histoiy  in  which  Philip  Henry's  life 
was  passed,  have  been  referred  to,  in  chronological  order, 
so  as  to  explain  their  influence  on  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  stood,  and  to  throw  a  new  light  on  the  events 
to  which  his  biographer  refers.  In  order  to  incorporate 
the  extracts  from  the  original  work  with  the  general 
scheme  of  such  an  historical  biography,  some  liberty  has 
necessarily  been  taken  with  the  text.  Words  which  have 
ceased  to  be  used  in  their  old  sense,  or  have  become  alto- 
gether obsolete,  have  been  changed  or  expunged  without 
hesitation.  Erasures  have  been  freely  resorted  to  where 
the  original  work  admitted  of  abridgment,  without  los- 
ing any  valuable  trait  of  character  or  manners ;  and  in 
many  cases  facts  and  illustrations  from  other  writers 


PREFACE.  "VU 

have  been  substituted  for  the  difiuse  reflections  suggested 
by  the  veneration  and  piety  of  filial  affection.  Neverthe- 
less, sufficient  of  the  quaintness  and  beautiftd  simplicity 
of  the  original  has.  it  is  believed,  been  preserved,  to  ex- 
hibit in  consistent  harmony  and  truthfulness,  the  picture 
of  Christian  charity  and  love  displayed  in  the  life  of  him, 
of  whom  Dr.  Christopher  Wordsworth  has  remarked,  in 
his  Ecclesiastical  Biography,  "  If  he  could  any  where 
have  found  Noncombrmity  united  with  more  Christian 
graces  than  in  Philip  Henry,"  he  would  have  given  it  the 
preference.  Above  all,  the  utmost  care  has  been  taken, 
while  seeking  to  throw  new  light  on  the  subject  of  this 
memoir,  that  no  false  or  doubtful  view  should  be  substi- 
tuted for  that  which  has  been  handed  down  to  us  by  filial 
veneration  and  Christian  piety.  The  object  aimed  at  has 
been,  not  to  produce  a  better  iiie  than  that  which  Matthew- 
Henry  wrote  of  his  father,  but  only  such  an  one.  as.  if  he 
were  writing  for  times  so  distant  and  so  changed  from 
those  in  which  he  and  his  father  lived,  he  might  now  be 
expected  to  produce.  The  quaint  antithesis,  and  the 
elaborate  trimness  of  style  and  thought,  which  abound  in 
Phihp  Henry's  writings,  and  in  parts  of  his  son's  biogra- 
phical tribute  to  his  memory,  are  peculiarities  of  their  age, 
which  have  long  since  growb  antiquated  and  obsolete. 
But  the  simplicity  and  integrity,  the  fen  ent  piety,  the 
long-suffering  patience,  and  conscientious  moderation  and 
charity,  of  Philip  Henry,  present  a  rare  example  of  the 


vill  PREFACE. 

Christian  pastor,  which  belongs  to  all  times ;  and  which, 
when  this  humble  effort  at  adapting  its  history  to  the 
habits  of  our  age,  shall  have  grown  even  more  antiquated 
and  obsolete  than  his  own  quaint  style,  will  be  anew  re- 
adapted  to  the  tastes  of  other  generations,  as  one  of  the 
most  lovely  examples  of  the  power  of  divine  grace  on  the 
soul,  in  moulding  the  disciple  to  the  hkeness  of  his 
Master : — ^who,  when  he  was  reviled,  reviled  not  again  ; 
when  he  suffered,  he  threatened  not ;  but  committed  him- 
self to  him  that  judgeth  righteously. 


CONTENTS. 


I,— The  Henry  Family,  '    ..  .      ...  '11 

n.— Whitehall  Playmates,    ...  18 

m.— The  Schoolboy,  ...         ...    28 

nr.— College  Life,         ...        ...  ...        ...  37 

v.— Whitehall,      ...         ...          ..  ...         ...  47 

VL— Christ  Church,  Oxford,       ...  ...        ...  58 

vn.— Probation  at  Emeral  Hall,         ...  ..        ...  63 

vm.— Ordination,                      ...  ...         ...  71 

IX— Character  of  his  Preaching,       ...  ...        ...  86 

X.— His  Parish  Duties,             ...  ...         ...  97 

XL— Marriage,       ...         ...        ...  ...        ...  108 

xu.— The  Restoration,               ..  ...         ...  122 

xin.— Exclusion  from  WorthenbuT}',    ...  ...        ...  131 

xrv.— St.  Bartholomew  Act,         ...  ..         ...  140 

XV.  — Removal  to  Broad  Oak,             ...  ..         ...  148 

XVI.  — Hospitalities  of  Broad  Oak,  ...         ...  162 

XVII.— The  Oxford  Act,          ...         ...  ..         ...  161 

XVIII.— Return  to  Broad  Oak,         ...  ...         ...  171 

XIX.— The  Indulgence,           ...         ...  ...         ...  184 

XX.  — Titus  Oates  and  the  Popish  Plots,  ...  192 

XXI.  — Judge  Jeffries  and  the  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,        "...  201 


X  CONTENTS. 


XXII.— The  Rye-House  Plot,           ..  ...         .  .  S19 

XXIII.— Duke  of  Monmouth's  Insurrection,  .  224 

xxrv.— King  James's  Indulgence,    ...  232 

XXV.  — King  James's  Toleration,  ..          ..  241 

XXVI.  — The  Act  of  Indulgence,       ...  ...         ..  247 

xxviL— The  Services  at  Broad  Oak,  ...         ...           .  256 

XXVIII.— The  Marriages  at  Broad  Oak,  ...         ...  264 

XXIX— Adopted  Sons,  ...          ..  ...         ...         ...  271 

XXX.— The  Close,            ...         .  ...  275 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

OTTHE 

REV.  PHILIP  HENRY,  M.A. 

FATHER  OF  THE  COMMENTATOR. 


CHAPTER  I. — THE  HENRY  FAMILY. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century  there 
dwelt  in  a  retired  hamlet  in  Glamorganshire,  a  humble 
Welshman  named  Heniy  Williams,  who  married,  and 
brought  up  there,  at  Britton-Ferry,  betwixt  Neath  and 
Swansey,  a  young  family,  with  little  other  ambition  than 
that  of  pursuing  the  honest  and  homely  career  common 
among  the  natives  of  that  quiet  district  of  Wales.  His 
son,  John,  bom  July  20,  1599,  according  to  the  simple 
old  customs  of  the  time,  was  known  as  John  Henry ;  and 
had  he  continued  to  dwell  among  his  o^vti  people,  the 
patriarchal  custom  of  making  the  father's  Christian  name 
the  surname  of  the  son,  might  have  been  continued  for 
some  generations  longer.  John  Henry,  though,  from  all  we 
know  of  him,  seemingly  a  devout  man,  well  disposed, 
industrious,  and  attached  ydth  all  the  ardour  of  a  moun- 
taineer to  his  own  kindred  and  home,  had  yet  some  higher 
ambition  than  the  fields  of  Glamorganshire  sufficed  to 
gratify.    He  was  beset  indeed  with  the  same  incentives, 


12 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


that  send  forth  the  Scots  and  the  Swiss,  forsaking  their 
native  land  to  which  all  their  love  and  prepossessions  are 
hound,  to  wander  to  other  countries  in  search  of  fortune 
and  adventure.  It  is  the  characteristic  of  sucli  rugged, 
mountainous  birth-lands.  As  with  the  hand  of  a  rude 
step-mother  they  thrust  forth  their  hardy  sons  to  seek 
for  kindlier  welcome,  and  better  sustenance  among 
strangers ;  and  the  wanderer, — with  his  heart  still  yearning 
after  the  wild  home  of  his  fathers, — gathers  around  a 
more  genial  hearth,  and  amid  comforts  unkno\Mi  to  his 
childhood,  the  younger  generation  who  find  there  their 
home.  Even  so  was  it  with  the  son  of  Henry  Williams. 
He  left  his  native  countrv'  and  his  father's  house  when 
a  mere  youth,  having  in  his  purse,  as  his  son  long  after- 
wards noted,  but  one  solitary  groat,  which  he  received 
from  his  father  at  parting.  Perhaps  it  was  all  the  old 
man  could  spare,  except  his  blessing ;  nor  were  other  re- 
lations better  able  to  assist.  "He  left  his  native  coun- 
try," says  his  son,  "altogether  unprovided  for  by  his  re- 
lations ;  but  it  pleased  God  to  bless  his  ingenuity  and 
industry  vdih.  a  considerable  income  afterwards,  which 
enabled  him  to  live  comfortably  himself,  to  bring  up  his 
children  well,  and  to  be  kind  to  many  of  his  relations.''^ 
From  this  we  may  infer  that  it  was  from  no  lack  of  love 
or  kindly  sympathy  that  his  relations  saw  the  young 
Welshman  set  out  with  his  sohtary  groat  in  his  pocket ; 

"  All  the  world  before  him  where  to  choose 
His  place  of  rest,  and  Providence  his  guide." 

How  the  wanderer  fared  when  his  groat  was  spent,  and 
his  home-stocked  wallet  exhausted  we  know  not.  But 
providence  blessed  his  exertions.    A  morsel  cf  bread,  and 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRIT. 


13 


some  nightly  resting  place  would  not  fail  the  young 
mountaineer,  at  the  worst  not  harder  than  the  pillow  and 
the  bed  that  sufficed  for  the  patriarch  Jacob,  as  he  jour- 
neyed to  Padan-aram,  and  met  with  God  on  the  way. 
It  was  his  good  fortune  to  enter  the  service  of  William 
Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  a  nobleman  high  in  repute  as 
an  encourager  of  worth  and  ability.  As  Chancellor  of 
the  University  of  Oxford  his  interest  was  liberally  exerted 
in  the  advancement  of  learning  ;  and  his  name  is  still 
commemorated  there  as  one  of  the  most  zealous  pro- 
moters of  the  foundation  of  Pembroke  College.  Still 
more  worthy  of  our  note  is  the  fact  that  it  was  this  noble- 
man who  was  first  attracted  by  the  talent  for  drawing 
which  Inigo  Jones  displayed  while  but  a  boy.  By  him 
the  future  architect  of  the  new  palace  of  Whitehall  was 
sent  abroad,  and  maintained  for  some  years,  while  he 
studied  the  monuments  of  ancient  art  which  afford 
authorities  and  dictate  laws  to  the  modern  architect.  It 
seems  no  imreasonable  inference  to  draw  from  the  en- 
couragement afforded  by  such  a  patron  to  the  young 
Welshman,  that  he  had  discovered  in  him  some  peculiar 
promise  of  fidehty  and  worth,  and  which  the  constancy 
of  his  favour  to  him  affords  good  proof  that  he  never 
after  found  reason  to  question.  John  Henry  continued  in 
the  sendee  of  the  Earl  for  many  years,  imtil  that  nobleman 
was  advanced  by  the  King,  Charles  I.,  to  the  office  of  Lord 
Chamberlain ;  when  he  was  himself  also  preferred  to  the 
King's  service. 

The  principal  royal  residence  at  this  period  was  the 
Palace  of  Whitehall,  an  ancient  edifice  of  great  extent 
acquired  by  Henry  VIII.,  soon  after  the  greater  part  of 


14 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


the  royal  Palace  of  Westminster  had  been  destroyed  by 
fire.  It  originally  bore  the  name  of  York  Place,  having 
formed  the  town  residence  of  the  Archbishops  of  York. 
It  extended  over  a  large  space  of  ground  occupying  the 
site  of  Parliament  Street,  and  the  public  buildings  that 
now  intervene  betAvixt  that  great  thoroughfare  and  St, 
James'  Park,  and  extending  with  its  gardens  and  terraces, 
to  the  banks  of  the  river.  The  office  to  which  John 
Henry  was  appointed  in  the  King's  service  was  keeper  of 
the  royal  orchard  at  Whitehall,  in  which  capacity  he 
had  a  lodging  provided  for  him,  on  the  river-side,  with 
the  charge  of  the  water-gate,  which  was  approached  by 
the  garden  stairs,  and  by  which  the  King  and  all  his 
noble  or  privileged  visitors  went  and  came,  when  visiting 
the  palace  by  water.  The  perquisites  of  the  water-gate, 
and  the  emoluments  of  his  post,  appear  to  have  afforded 
him  a  very  comfortable  income,  "insomuch  that  he  lived 
plentifully  and  in  good  repute." 

It  was  the  good  fortune  of  the  wanderer  from  the  far 
wilds  of  Glamorganshire,  after  he  had  thus  lighted  on  so 
comfortable  a  resting-place,  to  find  among  the  new 
friends  he  made  in  the  capital,  "  a  virtuous  pious  gentle- 
woman," for  so  her  distinguished  grandson,  Matthew 
Henry,  describes  her, — "A  virtuous  gentlewoman,  and 
one  w^ho  feared  God  above  many.''  Magdalen  Rochdale 
was  a  native  of  Westminster.  There  John  Henry,  the 
keeper  of  the  orchard  at  Whitehall,  made  her  acquaint- 
ance ;  mutual  likings  increased  after  a  v  liile  to  mutual 
love  and  Magdalen  became  the  wife  of  John  Henry. 

Such  were  the  parents  of  Philip  Henry,  the  subject  of 
this  memoir ;  and  though  placed  in  the  midst  of  the 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


15 


pleasures  and  the  vanities  of  a  court  they  retained  their 
simplicity  of  manners,  their  integrity,  and  above  all  the 
exalted  piety,  which  in  an  especial  manner  character- 
ized the  mother  of  so  eminent  a  servant  of  God.  Philip 
was  the  only  son  of  this  worthy  couple,  bom  to  them  on 
the  24th  of  August,  1631, — a  day  held  in  remembrance 
still  by  many  as  the  aniversary  of  more  than  one  sad 
and  memorable  deed.  On  the  24th  of  August,  1572,  the 
streets  of  Paris  ran  with  the  blood  of  the  slaughtered 
Huguenots,  or  French  Protestants,  butchered  by  the  com- 
mand of  their  infamous  sovereign,  Charles  IX.  England 
too  bad  her  Bartholomew's  Day,  ninety  years  later,  in 
whose  wTongs  Phihp  Henrj'  was  a  sharer,  adding  new  and 
mournful  associations  to  the  anniversary  of  his  birth. 

"  He  was  bom,"  WTites  his  son  Matthew  Henry,  "at 
Whitehall,  in  Westminster,  on  Wednesday,  August  24, 
1631,  being  Bartholomew  Day.  I  find  usually,  in  his 
Diaiy,  some  pious  remark  or  other  upon  the  annual  re- 
turn of  his  birth-day.  As  in  one  year  he  notes,  that  the 
Scripture  mentions  but  two  who  obsei-ved  their  birth-day 
with  feasting  and  joy,  and  they  were  neither  of  them 
copies  to  be  written  after  :  viz.  Pharoah  and  Herod. — 
But  saith  he,  I  rather  obser^^e  it  as  a  day  of  mourning 
and  humiliation,  because  shapen  in  iniquity,  and  conceived 
in  sin.  And  when  he  had  completed  the  thirtieth  year 
of  his  age,  he  noted  this, — So  old,  and  no  older,  Alexan- 
der was,  when  he  liad  conquered  the  great  world,  but 
saith  he,  I  have  not  yet  subdued  the  little  world,  mysel£ 
At  his  tliirty-third  year  he  hath  tliis  humble  reflection. 
— A  long  time  lived  to  small  purpose.  What  shall  I  do  to 
redeem  it  1  And,  at  another, — I  may  moui-n  as  Csesar  did, 


16 


lilFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


whe  n  he  reflected  upon  Alexander's  early  achievements 
that  others,  younger  than  I  am,  have  done  much  more 
than  I  have  done  for  God,  the  God  of  my  life.  And,  to  men- 
tion no  more,  when  he  had  lived  forty-two  years,  he  thus 
writes, — I  w^ould  be  loath  to  live  it  over  again,  lest,  instead 
of  making  it  better,  I  should  make  it  worse  ;  and  besides, 
every  year  and  day  spent  on  earth  is  lost  in  heaven. 
This  last  note  minds  me  of  a  passage  I  heard  him  tell  of 
a  friend  of  his,  who,  being  grown  into  years,  was  asked 
how  old  he  was,  and  answered, — On  the  \vrong  side  of 
fifty  ;  which,  said  Mr.  Henry,  he  should  not  have  said  ; 
for,  if  he  was  going  to  heaven,  it  was  the  right  side  of 
fifty. 

"He  always  kept  a  will  by  liim  ready  made ;  and  it  was 
his  custom,  yearly,  upon  the  return  of  his  birth-day,  to 
review,  and  if  occasion  were,  to  renew  and  alter  it.  For 
it  is  good  to  do  that  at  a  set  time,  which  it  is  very  good 
to  do  at  some  time.  The  last  will  he  made  bears  date, 
— This  24th  day  of  August,  1695,  being  the  day  of  the 
year  on  which  I  was  born,  1631,  and  also  the  day  of  the 
year  on  which  by  law,  I  died,  as  did  also  near  two  thou- 
sand faithful  ministers  of  Jesus  Christ,  1662  ;  alluding 
to  that  clause  in  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  which  disposes 
of  the  places  and  benifices  of  ministers  not  conforming, 
as  if  they  were  naturally  dead." 

In  this,  however,  we  anticipate  the  close  of  a  life  whose 
narrative  is  still  untold.  The  period  of  Philip's  birth 
was  one  in  which  many  memorable  events  were  tran- 
spiring, the  consequences  of  which  were  felt  in  ever-in- 
creasing influence  through  his  whole  future  career.  In 
this  year,  1631,  when  Philip  Henry  was  born  in  the  Palace 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


17 


of  Whitehall,  the  heir,  as  it  seemed,  to  court  patronage 
and  favour,  and  the  destined  playmate  and  servitor  of 
princes.  Archbishop  Laud  was  in  the  very  height  of  his 
influence  and  power.  Only  a  few  months  before,  Dr. 
Leighton,  the  father  of  another  and  more  worthy  Arch- 
bishop had  been  arrested  by  a  warrant  from  the  High 
Commission  Court,  under  tlie  dictation  of  Laud,  and  had 
been  convicted  of  the  unpardonable  crime  of  publishing 
his  "  Appeal  to  Parliament,  or  Zion's  Plea  against  Pre- 
la,cy."  The  barbarity  of  the  treatment  he  was  subjected 
to  is  well  known  to  every  student  of  English  history. 
Enacted  in  Protestant  England,  and  under  the  sanction 
and  with  the  approbation  of  a  so  called,  Protestant  bishop, 
the  bloody  rites  with  which  the  free  discussion  of  a  ques- 
tion of  ecclesiastical  polity  was  visited,  are  paralleled  only 
by  the  Auto-da-fes,  of  Spanish  or  Mexican  inquisitors. 
Charles  too,  the  haughty  sovereign  of  England,  was  pur- 
suing the  despotic  career  that,  a  few  years  later,  exhausted 
the  long-enduring  patience  of  his  people,  and  at  length 
brought  him  to  the  scaffold.  It  was  at  the  commence- 
ment of  this  very  memorable  era,  that  Philip  Henry  was 
born.  His  name  appears  to  have  been  intended  as  a  grate- 
ful acknowledgment  by  his  father  of  the  kindness  and 
fevour  bestowed  on  him  by  the  son  of  his  first  patron, 
Philip,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  who  stood  sponsor  for  his  young 
protegee  at  the  font,  and  continued  to  favour  him  as  long 
as  he  lived.  On  the  death  of  this  nobleman  in  1669, — 
long  after  this  godson  had  experienced  the  bitterest  fruits 
of  a  restoration-government's  tender-mercies,  his  son 
Philip  succeeded  to  the  title,  and  remembered  the  old 
kindness  of  his  father  for  one,  who,  not  improbably  may, 

B 


18 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


have  been  the  friend  of  his  own  youth.  The  davv^n  of 
existence  of  the  future  eminent  nonconformist  confessor 
was  strangely  enough  encircled  with  all  the  tokens  of 
court  favour,  and  the  blandishments  of  aristocratic  conde- 
scension. In  addition  to  the  old  friend  of  his  father's 
house,  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  young  Philip  had  for  spon- 
sors, in  accordance  with  the  practice  which  still  remains 
in  use  in  the  Church  of  England, — James,  Earl  of  Carlisle, 
and  Lady  Catherine  Howard,  Countess  of  Salisbury. 
A  feiii-  and  promising  beginning,  that,  told  at  his  old  grand- 
father's hearth  amid  the  mountains  of  Wales,  would  have 
seemed  scare  conceivable  honours  for  a  scion  of  his  house. 
It  was  indeed  a  prosperous  and  most  unexpected  state  of 
things  for  him  who  had  left  his  highland  home  with  staff  in 
hand,  and  with  only  one  solitary  groat,  his  father's  parting 
gift,  wherewith  to  jjurchase  the  favour  of  strangers. 
Might  he  not  exclaim  with  the  old  Hebrew  patriarch, 
to  whom  we  have  already  compared  him  :  "0  God  of  my 
fe-thers,  I  am  not  worthy  of  the  least  of  all  the  mercies, 
and  of  all  the  truth,  which  thou  hast  showed  unto  thy 
servant ;  for  with  my  staff  I  passed  over  this  Jordan, 
and  now  I  am  become  two  bands !" 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHITEHALL  PLAYMATES. 


Young  Philip  Henry  grew  up  under  the  tender  and 
pious  nursing  of  his  good  mother,  little  conscious  of  the 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


19 


stormy  scenes  that  were  being  enacted  throughout  Eng  • 
land  although  himself  born  in  the  Palace  of  Whitehall,  the 
focus,  as  it  were,  of  all  these  far-reaching  actions  and  events, 
which  made  Whitehall  the  last  lodging  and  the  last  prison 
of  Charles  I.,  where  he  bade  so  tender  a  farewell  to  some 
most  dear  to  him,  and  from  whence  he  stepped  on  to  the 
fatal  scaffold,    Nor  was  Philip  the  only  thoughtless 
light-hearted  boy  who  strolled  in  the  old  orchard  of 
Whitehall,  and  romped  in  mirthful  glee  through  the  in- 
tricate galleries  and  courts  of  the  palace.    The  young 
Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Duke  of  York,  afterwards  suc- 
cessors to  their  father's  throne,  as  Charles  XL,  and  James 
II., — were  nearly  of  the  same  age  as  Philip  Henry  ;  and 
still  more  deeply  involved  as  they  were  in  the  issues  of 
that  eventful  era,  they  shared  in  the  sports  of  the  future 
nonconformist  divine :  heedless  of  more  momentous  occur- 
rences tlian  the  passing  incidents  of  their  boyish  play. 
Happy,  happy  boyhood  !  Hopeful,  innocent,  and  joyous ; 
full  of  the  present,  and  picturing  only  a  glad  and  prosper- 
ous future.    Happy  young  Philip  !  was  it  not  as  if  the 
lamb  should  share  its  spring  gambols  with  the  suckling 
wolf?  The  playmate,  of  the  future  nonconformist  divine 
the  Restoration  monarch,  who  drove  out  nearly  two  thou- 
sand faithful  ministers  of  Christ  from  their  homes  and  their 
charges — Philip  Henry  his  youthful  playfellow  among 
the  number, — and  forbad  them  under  heavy  pains  and 
penalties  to  teach  any  more  in  the  name  of  their  Master ; 
and  James  II.,  the  merciless  agent  of  his  brother  in  per- 
secuting and  torturing  the  children  of  the  Covenant, 
amid  the  wild  moors  and  mountains  of  Scotland,  and 
who  at  length  forfeited  his  throne  as  a  faithless  restorer 


so 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


of  popery  to  England's  faith,  and  ot  despotism  to  her 
government.  Yet  Henry  never  forgot  his  old  affection 
for  these  companions  of  his  youth.  His  son,  in  referring 
to  this,  remarks :  "  Prince  Charles  and  the  Duke  of  York 
being  somewhat  near  of  an  age  to  him,  he  was  in  his 
childhood  very  much  an  attendant  on  them  in  their  play, 
and  they  were  often  with  him  at  his  father's  house, 
and  they  were  wont  to  tell  him  what  preferment  he 
should  have  at  court,  as  soon  as  he  was  fit  for  it.  He 
kept  a  book  to  his  dying  day,  which  the  Duke  of  York 
gave  him  ;  and  I  have  heard  him  bewail  the  loss  of  two 
curious  pictures,  which  he  gave  him  likewise.  Arch- 
bishop Laud  took  a  particular  kindness  to  him  when  he 
was  a  child,  because  he  would  be  very  officious  to  attend 
at  the  water-gate,  (which  was  pai-t  of  his  father's  charge 
in  Whitehall,)  to  let  the  Archbishop  through  when  he 
came  late  from  Council,  to  cross  the  water  to  Lambeth." 

Another  and  no  less  curious  coincident  was  this  favour 
of  Laud  for  young  Philip.  Well  might  he  rejoice  amid  all 
his  after- sufferings,  that  God  had  delivered  him  fi-om  the 
snares  of  a  court.  With  such  patrons  and  under  such 
favour,  how  strangely  different  is  the  career  which  must 
have  been  anticipated  for  him  by  the  most  far-seeing  of  his 
contemporaries,  and  the  friends  and  patrons  who  gathered 
around  the  font  on  the  solemn  occasion  of  his  dedication  to 
God  in  baptism ;  or  w^ho  watched  his  sports  as  he  grew  up 
surrounded  with  the  gaieties  and  the  dangers  of  the  royal 
Palace  of  Whitehall,  in  that  seventeenth  century,  when 
royal  prerogatives,  and  its  proud  assumptions,  received  so 
rude  a  shock ! 

But  happy  above  all  was  Philip  Henry  in  the  teach- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


21 


ing  of  a  mother,  who  though  of  Ccesar's  household,  was 
a  servant  of  Christ.  The  language  of  the  Christian  poet 
of  a  later  age,  might  well  have  expressed  the  thoughts  of 
him  whose  childhood  was  passed  in  courts,  and  in  intimate 
fellowship  with  princes,  heirs  of  England's  throne : — 

• '  My  boast  is  not  that  I  can  trace  my  birth 
From  loins  enthroned  and  rulers  of  the  earth : 
But  higher  far  my  proud  pretensions  rise 
The  son  of  paients  passed  into  the  skies." 

Matthew  Henry  remarks  of  the  instructor  of  liis  father's 
youth,  "His  mother,  Mrs.  Magdalen  Rochdale,  was  a 
virtuous,  pious  gentlewoman,  and  one  that  feared  God 
above  many.  She  was  altogether  dead  to  the  vanities  and 
pleasures  of  the  com*t,  though  she  lived  in  the  midst  of 
them.  She  looked  well  to  the  ways  of  her  household ; 
prayed  with  them  daily,  catecliized  her  children,  and 
taught  them  the  good  knowledge  of  the  Lord  betimes. 
I  have  heard  him  speak  of  his  learning  Perkins's  Six 
Principles,  when  he  was  very  young ;  and  he  often  men- 
tioned, with  thankfulness  to  God,  his  great  happiness  in 
having  such  a  mother,  who  was  to  him  as  Lois  and  Eunice 
were  to  Timothy,  acquainting  him  with  the  Scriptures 
from  his  childhood ;  and,  there  appearing  in  him  early 
inclinations  both  to  learning  and  piety,  she  devoted  him 
in  his  tender  years  to  the  service  of  God,  in  the  work  of 
the  ministry.  She  died  of  a  consumption,  March  6, 1645, 
leaving  behind  her  only  this  son  and  five  daughters.  A 
little  before  she  died,  she  had  this  saying,  'My  head  is 
in  heaven,  and  my  heart  is  in  heaven;  it  is  but  one  step 
nore,  and  I  shall  be  there  too.' " 
One  circumstance  that  made  a  strong  impression  on 


22 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


the  boy's  mind  he  frequently  reverted  to  in  after-life. 
When  the  long  parliament  boldly  took  the  reigns  of  govern- 
ment into  its  own  hands,  the  first  evidence  of  its  power 
and  determination,  was  the  impeachment  of  the  King's 
ablest  and  most  despotic  adviser,  Wentworth,  Earl  of 
Strafford :  an  action  of  which  Milton  speaks  in  exulting 
admiration.    This  was  followed  by  the  arrest  of  Laud,  a 
man  less  feared  than  detested  by  the  patriots  of  England 
for  his  narrow-minded  bigotry  and  cruelty.     The  Arch- 
bishop was  sent  to  the  Tower,  where  he  long  lay  in  prison, 
unheeded  by  his  enemies,  amid  the  momentous  events  that 
were  then  transpiring  in  England.    At  that  time  old 
John  Henry  remembered  the  kindness  of  the  primate  to 
himself,  and,  with  his  son  Philip  in  his  hand,  visited  him 
in  his  prison  in  the  Tower.    That  interview  was  never 
forgot  by  the  boy.    There  was  much  in  it  to  impress  his 
his  young  mind.    The  prcud  minister  and  primate  of 
England— whom  he  had  so  often  waited  on  with  rever- 
ence and  admiring  awe,  as  he  stepped  from  his  gay  barge 
at  the  stairs  of  Whitehall  orchard,  on  his  way  to  advise 
with  the  King, — now  lay  a  poor  despised  prisoner,  sunk 
from  all  his  greatness,  and  anticipating  only  the  vengeance 
of  his  enemies  in  the  violent  death  which  was  at  length 
adjudged  to  him  in  requital  of  his  crimes.  Matthew 
Henry  often  heard  his  father  speak  of  this  visit  to  the 
captive  primate,  and  relate  that  on  that  occasion  Laud 
presented  him  with  some  new  money.  The  scenes  indeed 
of  his  early  life  must  have  presented  so  striking  a  contrast 
to  his  career  in  after-life,  and  to  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  was  placed  when  recalling  them  for  the  benefit 
of  his  son ;  that  it  need  excite  no  wonder  to  find  that 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


23 


tliey  frequently  formed  the  subject  of  conversation  at  his 
fireside.  It  was  a  period  of  English  history  in  which  all 
were  deeply  interested,  and  one  can  see  from  these  pass- 
ing notes  of  the  old  man's  familiar  discourse,  that  the 
prepossessions  and  sympathies  of  his  early  years  often 
blended  themselves,  in  happy  inconsistency,  with  the 
conscientious  convictions  of  his  later  life.  All  the  wrongs 
that  he  suffered  from  the  goveniment  of  the  restoration, 
never  obliterated,  in  his  generous  mind,  the  condescension 
and  kindness  of  the  companions  of  his  boyhood  in  the 
sports  of  Whitehall  palace  and  orchard. 

"These  circumstances  of  his  childhood  he  would  some- 
times speak  of  among  his  fi-iends,  not  as  glorying  in  them, 
but  taking  occasion  from  thence  to  bless  God  for  his  de- 
liverance from  the  snares  of  the  court,  in  the  midst  of 
wliich  it  is  so  very  hard  to  maintain  a  good  conscience 
and  the  power  of  religion,  that  it  hath  been  said,  though, 
blessed  be  God,  it  is  not  a  rule  without  exception.  Exeat 
€X  aula  gui  velit  essepius.  The  breaking  up  and  scatter- 
ing of  the  court,  by  the  calamities  of  1641,  as  it  dashed 
the  expectations  of  his  court  preferments,  so  it  prevented 
the  danger  of  court  entanglements.  And,  though  it  was 
not,  like  Moses's,  a  choice  of  his  own,  when  come  to  years, 
to  quit  the  court ;  yet  when  he  was  come  to  years,  he 
always  expressed  a  gi-eat  satisfaction  in  his  removal  from 
it,  and  blessed  God,  who  chose  his  inheritance  so  much 
better  for  liim. 

"  Yet  it  may  not  be  improper  to  observe  here,  what  was 
obvious  to  all  who  conversed  with  him  ;  viz.  that  he  had 
the  most  sweet  and  obliging  air  of  courtesy  and  civility 
that  could  be  ;  which  some  atributed  in  part  to  his  early 


24 


LIFE  AST)  TIMES  OF 


education  at  court.  His  mein  and  carriage  were  always 
so  very  decent  and  respectful,  that  it  could  not  but  win 
the  hearts  of  all  he  had  to  do  with.  Never  was  any 
man  further  from  that  rudeness  and  moroseness  which 
some  scholars,  and  too  many  that  profess  religion,  eitiier 
valfuUy  affect,  or  carelessly  allow  themselves  in,  some- 
times to  the  reproach  of  their  profession.  It  is  one  of 
the  laws  of  our  holy  religion,  exemplified  in  the  conver- 
sation of  this  good  man,  to  honour  all  men.  Sanctified 
civility  is  a  great  ornament  to  Christianity.  It  was  a 
saying  he  often  used, — Religion  doth  not  destroy  good 
manners ;  and  yet  he  was  very  far  from  anything  of 
vanity  in  apparel,  or  formality  of  compliment  in  address; 
his  conversation  was  all  natural  and  easy  to  himself  and 
others,  and  nothing  appeared  in  him,  which  even  a  severe 
critic  could  justly  call  affected.  This  temper  of  his  tended 
very  much  to  the  adorning  of  the  doctrine  of  God  our 
Saviour  ;  and  the  general  transcript  of  such  an  excellent 
copy,  would  do  much  towards  the  healing  of  those  wounds 
which  religion  hath  received,  in  the  house  of  her  friends, 
by  the  contrary.    But  to  return  to  his  story  : — 

"  The  first  Latin  school  he  went  to  was  at  St.  Martin's 
church,  under  the  teaching  of  one  Mr.  Bonner,  who 
entertained  a  warm  afiection  for  him,  and  took  great  pains 
in  helping  forward  his  studies.  Afterwards  he  was  re- 
moved to  Battersey,  where  Mr.  Wells  was  his  school- 
master. The  grateful  mention  which  in  some  of  his 
papers  he  makes  of  these  that  were  the  guides  and  instruc- 
tors of  his  childhood  and  youth,  brings  to  mind  that 
French  proverb,  'To  father,  teacher,  and  God  all-suffi- 
cient, none  can  render  equivalent.'  • 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


25 


"In  the  year  1643,  when  he  was  about  twelve  years  old, 
he  was  admitted  to  Westminster  School,  in  the  fourth 
form,  under  Mr.  Thomas  Vincent,  then  usher,  whom  he 
would  often  speak  of  as  a  most  able,  diligent  schoolmaster, 
and  one  who  grieved  so  much  at  the  dulness  and  non- 
proficiency  of  any  of  his  scholars,  that  falling  into  a 
consumption,  I  have  heard  ^Ir.  Henry  say  of  him, — He 
even  killed  himself  with  false  Latin. 

"A  while  after  he  was  taken  into  the  upper  school  under 
Mr.  Richard  Busby,  aftersvards  Dr.  Busby;  and  in 
October,  1645,  he  was  admitted  King's  scholar,  and  was 
first  of  the  election,  partly  by  his  own  merit,  and  partly 
by  the  interest  of  the  Earl  of  Pembroke. 

"Here  he  profited  greatly  in  learning, nor  was  there 
any  part  of  his  hfe  which  he  more  frequently  spoke  of 
with  pleasure  than  the  years  he  spent  at  Westminster 
School.  When  he  was  advanced  in  years,  he  v/ould 
readily  in  discourse  quote  passages  out  of  the  classic 
authors  that  were  not  common,  and  had  them  ad  unguem, 
and  yet  he  rarely  used  any  such  tilings  in  his  preaching, 
though  sometimes,  if  very  apposite,  he  inserted  them  in 
his  notes.  He  was  very  ready  and  exact  in  the  Greek 
accents,  the  quantities  of  words,  and  all  the  several  kinds 
of  Latin  verse ;  and  often  pressed  it  upon  young  scholars, 
in  the  midst  of  their  university-learning,  not  to  forget 
their  school-authors. 

"  Here  his  usual  recreation  at  vacant  times  was,  either 
reading  the  printed  accounts  of  public  occurrences,  or  at- 
tending the  courts  at  Westminster  Hall,  to  hear  the  trials 
and  arguments  there,  which  I  have  heard  him  say,  he  hath 
often  done  to  the  loss  of  his  dinner,  and  oftener  of  his  play. 


1 


26 


LITE  AIJD  TIMES  OF 


"  Soon  after  the  unliappy  wars  began,  there  was  a 
daily  morning  lecture  at  the  abbey-church,  between  six 
and  eight  o'clock,  preached  by  seven  worthy  members 
of  the  assembly  of  divines  in  course,  viz.  Mr.  Marshal, 
Mr.  Palmer,  Mr.  Herl,  Dr.  Staunton,  Mr.  Nye,  Mr.  Whit- 
aker,  and  Mr.  Hill.  It  was  the  request  of  his  pious 
mother  to  Mr.  Busby,  that  he  would  give  her  son  leave 
to  attend  that  lecture  daily,  which  he  did,  not  abating 
anything  of  his  school-exercise,  in  which  he  kejjt  pace 
with  the  rest ;  but  only  dispensing  with  his  attendance  for 
that  hour.  And  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  make  good  im- 
pressions on  his  soul,  by  the  sennons  he  heard  there. 
His  mother  also  took  him  with  her  every  Thursday,  to 
Mr.  Case's  lecture  at  St.  Martin's.  On  the  Lord's  day 
he  sat  under  the  powerful  ministry  of  Mr.  Stephen  Mar- 
slial;  in  the  morning  at  New-chapel,  in  the  afternoon 
at  St.  Margaret's  Westminster,  which  was  their  parish 
church.  This  minister  and  ministry  he  would,  to  his 
last,  sp^ak  of  with  great  respect  and  thankfulness  to 
'  God,  as  that  by  which  he  was,  through  grace,  in  the 
beginning  of  his  days,  begotten  again  to  a  Uvely  hope. 
I  have  heard  him  speak  of  it,  as  the  saying  of  some  vdse 
men  at  that  time, — That  if  all  the  Presbyterians  had  been 
like  Mr,  Stephen  Marshal,  all  the  Independents  like 
Mr.  Jeremiah  Burroughs,  and  aU  the  Episcopalians  like 
Archbishop  Usher,  the  breaches  of  the  church  would 
soon  have  been  healed.  He  also  attended  constantly 
upon  the  monthly  fasts  at  St.  Margaret's,  where  the  best 
and  ablest  ministers  of  England  preached  before  the  then 
House  of  Commons;  and  the  service  of  the  day  was 
carried  on  with  great  strictness  and  solemnity,  from  eight 


THE  REY.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


27 


in  the  morning  till  four  in  the  evening.  He  likewise 
frequented  extraordinary  fasts  and  thanksgivings.  Here 
he  used  to  sit  always  upon  the  pulpit  stairs,  and  it  was 
his  constant  pi-actice,  from  eleven  or  twelve  years  old,  to 
write,  as  ^le  could,  all  the  sermons  he  heard,  which  he 
kept  very  carefully,  transcribed  many  of  them  afterwards, 
and,  notwithstanding  liis  many  removals,  they  are  yet 
forthcoming. 

"At  these  monthly  fasts,  he  himself  has  recorded  it, 
he  had  often  sweet  meltings  of  soul  in  prayer,  and  con- 
fession of  sin,  (particularly  once  with  special  remark,  w^hen 
Mr.  William  Bridge,  of  Yarmouth,  prayed,)  many  warm 
and  lively  truths  came  home  to  his  heart,  and  he  daily 
increased  in  that  wisdom  and  knowledge  which  is  to 
salvation.  Read  his  reflections  upon  this,  which  he  wrote 
many  years  after.  '  If  ever  any  child,'  saith  he,  '  such 
as  I  then  was,  between  the  tenth  and  fifteenth  years  of 
my  age,  enjoyed  line  upon  line,  precept  upon  precept,  I 
did.  And  was  it  in  vain?  I  trust,  not  altogether  in 
vain.  My  soul  rejoiceth,  and  is  glad  at  the  remembrance 
of  it ;  the  word  distilled  as  the  dew,  and  dropt  as  the 
rain.  I  loved  it,  and  loved  the  messengers  of  it ;  their 
very  feet  were  beautiful  to  me.  And,  Lord,  what  a  mercy 
was  it,  that,  at  a  time  when  the  poor  counties  were  laid 
waste  ;  when  the  noise  of  drums  and  trumpets,,  and  the 
clattering  of  arms,  w^ere  heard  there,  and  the  ways  to 
Sion  mourned,  that  then  my  lot  should  be  where  there 
was  peace  and  quietness,  where  the  voice  of  the  turtle 
was  heard,  and  there  w^as  great  plenty  of  gospel  oppor- 
tunities !  Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul !  As  long  as  I  live 
I  will  bless  the  Lord.  I  will  praise  my  God  w^hile  I  have 


28 


LITE  AND  TIMES  OF 


my  being.  Had  it  been  only  the  restraint  that  it  laid 
upon  me,  whereby  I  was  kept  from  the  common  sins  of 
other  children  and  youths,  such  as  cursing,  swearing, 
sabbath-breaking,  and  the  like,  I  were  bound  to  be  very 
thankful.  But  that  it  prevailed,  through  gi*ace,  effectually 
to  bring  me  to  God,  how  much  am  I  indebted  !  And 
tfvhat  shall  I  render  ?' 

"Thus  we  see  how  the  dews  of  heaven  softened  his 
heart  by  degrees." 


CHAPTER  in. 

THE  SCHOOLBOr. 

There  is  something  altogether  delightful  in  the  picture 
of  the  piously  nurtured  boy,  and  of  his  excellent  mother 
training  him  up  with  loving  earnestness  "  in  the  way  he 
should  go,"  It  gives  us  an  insight  into  the  movement  of 
those  great  under-currents  in  society  that  fix  the  character 
of  a  succeeding  age.  We  trace  in  this  the  development 
of  influences,  the  fruits  of  which  were  productive  of  by 
far  the  noblest  and  mightiest  revolution  that  any  nation 
of  Europe  has  known, — a  revolution  which  has  been  the 
parent  of  all  succeeding  ones  wherein  the  liberty  of  the 
people  has  been  the  object  of  pursuit.  In  those  quiet 
years,  while  Magdalen  Rochdale  was  tending  her  infant 
son,  and  leading  him  on  step  by  step  in  knowledge  and 
understanding  ;  in  wisdom  and  stature  ; — in  those  very 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRT.  29 

years  Charles  was  extending  the  royal  favour  to  the 
Roman  Catholics,  under  the  influence  of  his  popish  Queen, 
while  so  thoroughly  did  he  draw  back  from  that  alliance 
\N'ith  continental  Protestantism,  which  Queen  Elizabeth 
had  so  zealously  maintained,  that  he  forbad  his  ambassador 
at  Paris  to  countenance  by  his  presence  the  services  of  the 
French  Protestant  Church.  An  eminent  French  Protes- 
tant writer,  M.  Guizot,  remarks,  when  wi-iting  of  this 
period,  "Notwithstanding  the  energy  and  zeal  of  his 
principal  councillors,  notwithstanding  the  tranquil  state 
of  the  country,  notwithstanding  the  private  worth  of  the 
King's  conduct,  and  the  proud  bearing  of  his  language, 
the  government  was  without  strength  and  without  con- 
sideration. Assailed  by  domestic  dissensions,  carried 
away  alternately  by  opposing  influences,  sometimes 
arrogantly  shaking  off  the  yoke  of  the  laws,  sometimes 
giving  way  before  the  slightest  diflSculties,  it  proceeded 
without  any  settled  plan;  it  forgot,  at  ever}'-  turn,  its 
own  designs.  It  had  abandoned,  on  the  continent,  the 
cause  of  Protestantism,  and  had  even  forbidden  Lord 
Scudamore,  its  ambassador  at  Paris,  to  attend  divine 
service  in  the  chapel  of  the  reformers,  because  the  forms 
did  not  come  near  enough  to  the  rites  *of  the  English 
Church.  And  yet  it  allowed  the  Marquis  of  Hamilton  to 
raise  in  Scotland  a  body  of  six  thousand  men,  and  to  go 
and  fight  at  their  head  (1631)  under  the  banners  of 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  not  forseeing  he  would  there  imbibe 
the  principles  and  creed  of  the  very  Puritans  whom  the 
Church  of  England  proscribed.  Charles's  faith  in  the 
reformed  religion,  such  as  Henry  VIIL  and  Elizabeth 
had  made  it,  was  sincere ;  and  yet,  whether  from  tender- 

I 


30 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


ness  to  his  wife,  or  from  a  spirit  of  moderation  and 
justice,  or  from  an  instinct  of  what  suited  absolute  power, 
he  often  granted  to  the  Catholics,  not  only  a  liberty  at 
that  time  illegal,  but  almost  avowed  favour.  Archbishop 
Laud,  as  sincere  as  his  master,  wrote  against  the  court  of 
Rome,  even  preached  strongly  against  the  worship  con- 
ducted in  the  queen's  chapel,  yet  at  the  same  time  he 
showed  himself  so  favourable  to  the  system  of  the  Romish 
Church,  that  the  Pope  thought  himself  authorized  to  offer 
him  a  cardinal's  hat,  (Aug.  1633.)" 

Yet  it  is  at  this  period,  in  the  Palace  of  Whitehall, 
and  in  the  very  vortex  of  such  influences,  that  we  find 
this  Eunice  training  up  her  child  to  the  service  of  God, 
weaning  him  from  the  vanities  of  the  world  while  in  daily 
contact  with  them,  and  devoting  him,  like  the  child 
Samuel, — an  offering  lent  unto  the  Lord  for  ever.  The 
circumstances  are  altogether  remarkable.  The  palace  of 
Charles  Stuart  becomes  the  birth-place  of  a  race  of 
eminent  divines  no  less  noted  for  sincere  and  simple 
Christian  piety,  than  for  a  self-sacrificing  devoted»ess  to 
the  doctrines  and  to  the  ecclesiastical  polity  of  the  Puri- 
tan Nonconformists. 

Might  not  this  Christian  mother,  with  a  peculiar  sense 
of  its  appropriateness,  have  adopted  for  herself  the  prayer 
of  the  Hebrew  mother,  when  she  brought  her  child  to  Eli, 
and  dedicated  him  to  God  for  the  service  of  his  temple  !  It 
sounds  from  her  lips  like  the  language  of  prophecy, 
as  we  seem  to  hear  its  devout  strains  from  amid  the 
revelry,  the  profane  mirth  or  the  superstitious  cere- 
monial of  ritual  worship,  in  the  courts  of  old  White- 
hall, where  Queen  Henrietta,  and  her  Romish  priests 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


31 


swayed  the  monarch  and  his  councillors  to  their  own  un- 
doing. 

Read  once  more  the  thrilling  language  of  the  old 
Hebrew  thanksgiving,  while  you  conceive  of  it  as  the  utter- 
ance of  Magdalen  Rochdale,  the  wife  of  the  pilgrim  from 
Glamorganshire,  both  of  them  devoted  in  their  love  to 
their  royal  master. 

"  My  heart  rejoiceth  in  the  Lord  :  mine  horn  is  ex- 
alted in  the  Lord  :  my  mouth  is  enlarged  over  mine 
enemies  ;  because  I  rejoice  in  thy  salvation.  There  is 
none  holy  as  the  Lord :  for  there  is  none  besides  thee  ; 
neither  is  there  any  rock  like  our  God.  Talk  no  more 
80  exceeding  proudly  ;  let  not  arrogancy  come  out  of 
your  mouth  :  for  the  Lord  is  a  God  of  knowledge,  and  by 
him  actions  are  weighed.  The  bows  of  the  mighty  men 
are  broken,  and  they  that  stumbled  are  girded  with 
strength.  They  that  were  full  have  hired  out  themselves 
for  bread ;  and  they  that  were  hungry  ceased :  so  that  the 
barren  hath  bom  seven  ;  and  she  that  hath  many  children 
is  w^axed  feeble.  The  Lord  killeth,  and  maketh  alive  ; 
he  biingeth  down  to  the  grave,  and  bringeth  up.  The 
Lord  maketh  poor,  and  maketh  rich  :  he  bringeth  low, 
and  lifteth  up.  He  raiseth  up  the  poor  out  of  the  dust, 
and  lifteth  up  the  beggar  from  the  dunghill,  to  set  them 
among  princes,  and  to  make  them  inherit  the  throne  of 
glory  ;  for  the  pillars  of  the  earth  are  the  Lord's,  and  he 
hath  set  the  world  upon  them.  He  will  keep  the  feet 
of  his  saints,  and  the  wicked  shall  be  silent  in  darkness ; 
for  by  strength  shall  no  man  prevail.  The  adversaries 
of  the  Lord  shall  be  broken  to  pieces  ;  out  of  heaven 
shall  he  thunder  upon  them  ;  the  Lord  shall  judge  the 


32 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


ends  of  the  earth  ;  and  he  shall  give  strength  unto  his 
king,  and  exalt  the  horn  of  his  anointed." 

Seems  it  not,  amid  the  shaking  of  thrones,  and  the 
terrible  struggles  for  right  and  mastery  in  that  old  seven- 
teenth century,  as  if  a  prophetess  were  seeing  beyond  the 
cloudy  horizon  of  mortal  vision,  and  triumphing  in  the 
coming  victory  of  truth  ! 

"But  it  is  time  we  return  to  Westminster  School, 
where,  having  begun  to  learn  Christ,  we  left  him  in  the 
successful  pursuit  of  other  learning,  under  the  eye  and 
care  of  that  great  master.  Dr.  Busby  ;  who,  on  the 
account  of  his  precocity  and  diligence,  took  a  particular 
kindness  to  him,  called  him  his  child,  and  would  some- 
times  tell  him  he  should  be  his  heir  ;  and  there  was  no 
love  lost  betwixt  them." 

His  recent  affectionate  biographer,  Sir  John  Bicker- 
ston  Williams,  himself  a  descendant  of  the  Henry  family, 
adds  in  reference  to  this  :  "  Mr.  John  Ireland,  the  editor 
of  Hogarth's  works,  numbered  Mr.  Henry  among  his  an- 
cestors. His  mother,  the  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Holland,  of  Wem,  in  Shropshire,  was  Mr.  Henry's  great- 
grand-daughter. 

"The  first  time  Mr.  Ireland  was  introduced  to  Dr.  John- 
son, he  was  stated  to  be  a  descendant  of  Mr.  Philip  Henry, 
on  which  that  great  man  remarked,  in  his  emphatic 
manner, — Sir,  you  are  descended  from  a  man,  whose 
genuine  simplicity,  and  unaffected  piety,  would  have 
done  honour  to  any  sect  of  Christians  ;  and,  as  a  scholar, 
he  must  have  had  uncommon  acquirements,  when  Busby 
boasted  of  having  been  his  tutor." 

"  Dr.  Busby  was  noted  as  a  very  severe  schoolmaster, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


33 


especially  in  the  beginning  of  his  time.  But  Mr.  Henry 
would  say  sometimes,  that,  as  in  so  great  a  school  there 
was  need  of  a  strict  discipline,  so  for  his  own  part,  of  the 
four  years  he  was  in  the  school,  he  never  felt  the  weight 
of  his  hand  but  once,  and  then,  saith  he,  in  some  of  the 
remarks  of  his  youth,  which  he  wrote  long  after,  '  I  de- 
served it.'  For,  being  monitor  of  the  chamber,  and, 
according  to  the  duty  of  his  place,  being  sent  out  to  seek 
one  that  played  truant,  he  found  him  out  where  he  had 
hid  himself,  and,  at  his  earnest  request,  promised  to  make 
an  excuse  for  him,  and  to  say  he  could  not  find  him  ; 
which,  saith  he,  in  penitential  reflection  upon  it  after- 
wards, 'I  wickedly  did.'  Next  morning  the  truant  coming 
under  examination,  and  being  asked  whether  he  saw  the 
monitor,  said.  Yes,  he  did  ;  at  which  Dr.  Busby  much 
surprised  turned  liis  eye  upon  the  monitor,  with  this 
word,  Kat  crv  tIkvov;  What  thou,  my  son,  and  gave  him 
correction,  and  appointed  him  to  make  a  penitential  copy 
of  Latin  verses,  which,  when  he  brought,  he  gave  him 
sixpence,  and  received  him  into  favour  again. 

"Among  the  mercies  of  God  to  him  in  his  youth,  (and 
he  would  say,  it  were  well  if  parents  would  keep  an 
account  of  those  for  their  children,  till  they  came  to  be 
capable  of  doing  it  for  themselves,  and  then  to  set  them 
upon  the  doing  of  it,)  he  records  a  remarkable  deliver- 
ance he  had  at  Westminster  School.  It  was  customary 
among  the  studious  boys,  for  one,  or  two,  or  more,  to  sit 
up  the  former  part  of  the  night  at  study  ;  and  when 
they  went  to  bed,  about  midnight,  to  call  others;  and 
they  others,  at  two  or  three  o'clock,  as  they  desired. 
His  rec[uest  was  to  be  called  at  twelve  ;  being  awaked, 


34  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 

he  desired  his  candle  might  be  lighted,  which  stuck  to 
the  bed's  head  ;  but  he  dropt  asleep  again,  and  the  candle 
fell,  and  burnt  part  of  the  bed  and  bolster,  ere  he  awaked ; 
but,  through  God's  good  providence,  seasonable  help 
came  in,  the  fire  was  soon  quenched,  and  he  received  no 
harm.  This  gave  him  occasion,  long  after,  to  say, — 
'  It  is  of  the  Lord's  mercies  that  we  are  not  consumed.' 

"When he  was  at  Westminster  School  he  was  employed 
by  Dr.  Busby,  as  some  others  of  the  most  ingenious  and 
industrious  of  his  scholars  were,  in  their  reading  of  the 
Greek  Authors,  to  collect,  by  his  direction,  some  materials 
for  that  excellent  Greek  Grammar,  which  the  Doctor 
afterwards  published. 

"  But,  be  the  school  never  so  agreeable,  youth  is  desirous 
to  commence  man  by  a  removal  from  it.  This  step  he 
took  in  the  sixteenth  year  of  his  age.  It  was  the  ancient 
custom  of  Westminster  School,  that  all  the  King's  scho- 
lars, who  stood  candidates  for  an  election  to  the  Univer- 
sity, were  to  receive  the  Lord's  Supper  the  Easter  before, 
which  he  did  with  the  rest,  in  St.  Margaret's  Church,  at 
Easter,  1647.  He  often  spnke  of  the  great  pains  which 
Dr.  Busby  took  with  his  scholars  that  were  to  approach 
to  that  solemn  ordinance,  for  several  weeks  before,  at 
stated  times  ;  with  what  skill  and  seriousness  of  applica- 
tion, and  manifest  concern  for  their  souls,  he  opened  to 
them  the  nature  of  the  ordinance,  and  the  work  they  had 
to  do  in  it ;  and  instructed  them  what  was  to  be  done 
in  preparation  for  it,  and  this  he  made  a  business  of, 
appointing  them  their  religious  exercises  instead  of  their 
school  exercises.  What  success  this  had,  through  the 
grace  of  God,  upon  young  Henry,  for  whom  the  doctor 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  3fi 

had  a  particular  regard,  read  from  his  o^yn  hand.  '  There 
had  heen  treaties,'  saith  he,  'before,  between  my  soul 
and  Jesus  Christ,  with  some  weak  overtures  towards  him  ; 
but  then,  then,  I  think,  it  was,  that  the  match  was  made, 
the  knot  tied  ;  then  I  set  myself,  in  the  strength  of 
divine  grace,  about  the  great  work  of  self-examination, 
in  order  to  repentance ;  and  then  I  repented  ;  that  is, 
solemnly  and  seriously,  with  some  poor  meltings  of  soul. 
I  confessed  my  sins  before  God,  original  and  actual, 
judging  and  condemning  myself  for  them,  and  casting 
away  from  me  all  my  transgressions,  receiving  Christ 
Jesus  the  Lord,  as  the  Lord  my  Righteousness,  and  de- 
voting and  dedicating  my  whole  self,  absolutely  and  un- 
resei-vedly,  to  his  fear  and  service,  i^fter  which,  coming 
to  the  ordinance,  there,  there  I  received  him  indeed; 
and  He  became  mine  ; — I  say,  Mine.  '  Bless  the  Lord 
0  my  soul !'  " 

Before  passing  on  from  this  most  attractive  period  of 
young  Henry's  life,  it  will  be  interesting  to  glance  for  a 
moment  at  the  reflections  he  himself  afterwards  drew 
from  the  schooling  of  tliis  period  and  his  own  youthful 
experience,  as  to  the  best  mode  of  training  the  young, 
and  the  reasonable  expectations  in  which  Christian 
l)arent3  may  indulge.  Like  all  the  other  -vmtings  of  this 
good  old  divine,  his  reflections  on  the  training  of  youth 
abound  with  that  quaint  and  curiously  balanced  anti- 
thesis, which  was  so  much  prized  by  the  writers  of  that 
age  ;  and  by  none  more  skilfully  handled  tlian  by  Philip 
Henry.  Like  others  who  have  enjoyed  the  blessings  of 
pious  parental  instruction,  and  been  guarded  at  every 
step  of  early  life  from  the  temptations  and  besetting  sins 


36 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


peculiarly  incident  to  that  period  ;  he  hesitated  to  name 
the  exact  period  when  he  forsook  the  vassalage  of 
Satan  for  the  service  of  God.  We  have  seen  indeed  that 
he  ascribed  to  the  serious  preparations  for  partaking  of 
the  Lord's  Supper,  under  the  guidance  of  his  excellent 
teacher  Dr.  Busby,  the  final  and  decisive  confirmation 
of  that  momentous  change  which  we  name  conversion  ; 
— the  passing  from  death  to  life  ; — the  heing  horn  again. 
"Then,  then,"  says  he,  "  I  think  it  was  that  the  match 
was  made,  the  knot  tied  ;"  and  he  frequently  afterwards 
refers,  with  deepest  gratitude,  to  the  earnest  solicitude 
and  care  of  his  old  master  for  his  instruction  in  the  best 
of  all  knowledge. 

Nevertheless,  it  will  be  observed  that  he  lays  no  less 
stress  in  another  place  on  the  preaching  at  St.  Margaret's, 
Westminster,  and  elsewhere,  which  he  was  wont  to  listen 
to  under  his  mother's  guidance  ;  and  his  son  remarks, 
"  He  would  blame  those  who  laid  so  much  stress  on  people 
knowing  the  exact  time  of  their  conversion,  which  he 
thought  was,  with  many,  not  possible  to  do.  Who  can 
so  soon  be  aware  of  the  day -break,  or  of  the  springing 
up  of  the  seed  sown  1  The  work  of  grace  is  better  known 
in  its  effects  than  in  its  causes. 

"  He  would  bear  his  testincony  to  the  comfort  and  benefit 
of  early  piety,  and  recommend  it  to  all  young  people,  as 
a  good  thing  to  bear  the  yoke  of  the  Lord  Jesus  in  youth. 
He  would  often  witness  against  that  wicked  proverb,  'A 
young  saint,  an  old  devil  ;'  and  would  have  it  said  rather, 
— A  young  saint,  an  old  angel.  He  observed  concerning 
Obadiah,  that  he  was  a  courtier,  yet  he  feared  the  Lord 
from  his  youth  ;  and  it  is  added  of  him,  that  he  'feared 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


37 


the  Lord  greatly.'  Those  that  would  come  to  fear  God 
greatly,  must  learn  to  fear  him  from  their  youth.  No 
man  did  his  duty  so  naturally  as  Timothy  did,  who,  from 
a  ciiild,  knew  the  Holy  Scriptures.  He  would  sometimes 
apply  to  this  that  common  saying, — He  that  would  thrive, 
must  rise  at  five.  And,  in  dealing  with  young  people, 
how  earnestly  would  he  press  this  upon  them, — I  tell 
you,  you  cannot  begin  too  soon  to  be  religious,  but  you 
may  put  it  off  too  long.  Manna  must  be  gathered  early, 
and  he  that  is  the  first,  must  have  the  first.  He  often 
inculcated.  Remember  thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth  : 
or,  as  in  the  original,  'the  days  of  thy  choice,' — thy 
choice  days,  and  thy  choosing  days." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

COLLEGE  LIFE. 

In  the  month  of  March,  1645,  and  probably  for  long 
months  before,  Magdalen  Rochdale,  the  mother  of  Philip 
Henrj^  lay  a-dying,  in  a  still  chamber  of  Whitehall 
palace.  The  King  had  long  before  left  it  to  return  only 
once  again.  But  his  faithful  old  servitors  lived  on  there 
still.  It  is  the  month  of  March  of  that  year,  now  more 
than  two  centuries  gone  by ;  scarce  three  months  later 
and  the  defeated  King  flung  himself  despairingly  on  the 
advancing  lines  of  victorious  foes  as  he  sought  in  vain  to 
rally  his  friends  for  one  more  last  struggle  at  Naseby 


38 


LIFE  AXD  TIMES  OF 


Field.  But  these  mighty  movements  were  of  little 
moment  to  the  family  circle  that  watched  aroimd  the 
deathbed  of  that  Christian  parent,  in  the  orchard-keeper's 
lodging  at  Whitehall.  Philip  Henry-  was  then  not  quite 
fourteen  years  of  age.  Old  enough  to  have  some  conception 
of  the  tioie  value  of  such  a  parent,  and  of  the  irreparable 
loss  he  ^yas  about  to  sustain  :  yet  young  enough  to  re- 
tain all  the  sanguine  buoyancy,  and  all  the  fresh  gush  of 
genuine  heart-bom  affection  which  belongs  to  youthful 
years.  He  was  not  longer  to  enjoy  the  presence  and  the 
care  of  the  beloved  monitor  of  his  youth.  Consumption 
had  laid  its  chiU  touch  on  her  delicate  frame,  had  tinged 
with  its  hectic  flush  her  pale  cheek,  and  had  kindled  its 
unearthly  lustre  in  the  eye  that  had  so  often  beamed 
forth  love.  Death  had  marked  her  for  his  own.  But  the 
deathbed  of  a  Christian  parent  teaches  lessons  not  soon 
forgot ;  and  as  the  boy  gazed  on  that  dying  face,  and 
heard  the  soft  utterance  of  her  fainting  voice,  still  pray- 
ing for  her  child,  and  promising  reunion  with  him  and 
his  sisters,  and  her  beloved  husband  hereafter,  "  A  family 
in  heaven,"  we  cannot  doubt  that  it  was  felt  as  another 
dedication  of  him  to  the  Lord. 

The  orphan  boy  and  his  sisters — aU  probably  older  than 
him, — gazed  together  on  the  loved  countenance  where 
death  had  set  his  seal.  Some  natural  tears  they  shed.  But 
it  was  a  deathbed  full  of  hope  and  joy ;  and  though  the 
fireside  seat  remained  vacant,  and  the  table-head  wanted 
its  wonted  occupant,  time  would  soon  heal  the  wounds  of 
these  young  hearts,  and  mellow  their  grief  into  the  sad  yet 
sweet  memories  of  the  most  loved, — the  long-remembered 
lead.  For  fully  two  years  after  tMs  event,  pregnant  with 


THE  REV.  rniLIP  HENRY. 


39 


such  momentous  consequences  to  the  subject  of  our 
memoir,  he  continued  under  the  tuition  of  his  excellent 
instructor  Dr  Busby,  whom  he  ever  after  remembered 
with  gratitude  and  atFection.  At  the  end  of  that  period  he 
w^s  chosen,  from  liis  good  scholarship  and  the  interest  of 
his  fi'iends,  to  be  entered  on  the  foundation  of  Christ 
Church  College,  Oxford.  Four  othei-s  were  selected  from 
among  the  Westminster  boys  at  the  same  time,  among 
whom  he  ranked  second,  in  the  examinations  that  tested 
their  proficiency.  His  son  adds — "At  his  election  he  was 
very  much  countenanced  and  smiled  upon  by  his  god- 
father, the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  who  was  one  of  the 
electors." 

Though  he  was  chosen  to  the  university  in  May,  yet, 
being  then  young,  under  sixteen,  and  in  love  with  his 
school-learning,  he  made  no  gi-eat  haste  thither.  It  was 
in  December  following,  1647,  that  he  removed  to  Oxford. 
Some  merciful  pi*ovidences  in  his  journey,  he  being  a 
young  traveller,  affected  him  much,  he  used  to  speak  of 
them,  with  a  sense  of  God's  goodness  to  him,  according  to 
the  impressions  then  made  by  them.  He  has  recorded 
th^m  with,  tliis  tliankfiil  note, — That  there  may  be  a 
great  mercy  in  a  small  matter ;  as  the  care  that  was 
taken  of  him  by  strangers,  when  he  fainted  and  was  sick 
in  his  inn  the  first  night ;  and  his  casual  meeting  with 
Mr.  Annesly,  son  to  the  Viscount  Valentia,  (who  was 
chosen  from  Westminster  School  at  the  same  time  that 
he  was,)  when  liis  other  company,  going  another  way, 
had  left  him  alone,  and  utterly  at  a  loss  what  to  do." 

The  years  spent  at  the  university  frequently  prove  the 
most  dangerous  period  of  life-time,  when  the  unguarded 


40 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


youth  SOWS,  broadcast,  seed  whose  fruits  embitter  his 
whole  after-life.  The  extreme  youth  of  Henry  rendered 
his  entering  at  Oxford  only  the  more  dangerous,  but 
happy  are  those,  who  before  being  exposed  to  such  subtle 
temptations,  as  youth,  and  wild  passions,  and  manifold 
facilities  to  evil,  combine  to  present,  having  learned  to 
lean  on  something  more  enduring  than  their  own  strength 
and  good  resolves.  Such  was  the  case  with  young  Philip 
Henry.  He  had  been  taught  io  remember  in  the  days 
of'  his  youth,  before  the  evil  days  come,  him  who  is 
the  only  true  comforter,  and  he  found  in  him  an  ever-' 
present  helper. 

"Being  come  to  Oxford,  he  was  immediately  entered 
commoner  of  Christ  Church,  where  Dr.  Samuel  Fell  was 
then  Dean ;  the  tutor  assigned  to  liim  and  the  rest  of 
that  election  was  Mr.  Underwood,  a  very  learned,  ingeni- 
ous gentlemen. 

"  His  godfather,  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  had  given  him 
ten  pounds  to  buy  liim  a  gown,  to  pay  his  fees,  and  to 
set  out  with.  This  in  his  papers  he  marks  as  a  season- 
able mercy  in  regard  to  some  straits,  which  Providence, 
by  the  calamity  of  the  times  had  brought  his  father  to. 
God  had  taught  him  from  his  youth  that  excellent  prin- 
ciple, which  he  adhered  to  all  his  days,  that  every  crea- 
ture is  to  us  that  and  no  more,  than  God  makes  it  to  be ; 
and,  therefore,  while  many  seek  the  ruler's  favour,  and  so 
expect  to  make  their  fortunes,  as  they  call  it,  seeing 
every  man's  judgment  proceedeth  from  the  Lord, .it  is 
our  wisdom  to  seek  his  favour,  who  is  the  E  uler  of  rulers ; 
an  effectual  way  to  make  sure  our  happiness, 

"  To  the  proper  studies  of  this  place  he  now  vigorously 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


41 


addressed  himself ;  though  still  retaining  a  great  partiality 
for  the  classic  authors,  and  the  more  polite  exercises  he 
loved  so  well  at  Westminster  School. 

"He  was  admitted  student  of  Christ  Church,  March  24, 
1647-8,  by  Dr.  Henr\-  Hammond,  that  great  man,  then 
Sub-Dean,  who  called  him  his  godbrother,  the  Earl  of 
Pembroke  being  his  godfather  also,  and  Prince  Henry  the 
I  her,  who  gave  him  his  name." 
Young  Henry  had  scarcely  been  a  month  at  Oxford 
ere  he  was  again  brought  within  the  vortex  of  those 
■.artling  amd  momentous  changes  which  so  peculiarly 
haracterised  the  times  in  which  he  lived.  He  had  visited 
the  old  primate,  Archbishop  Laud,  in  his  prison  in  the 
Tower.  That  do%vn£all  of  the  proudest  and  most  hated 
of  the  English  Prelates,  was  speedily  followed  by  the 
exclusion  of  all  the  others  fix)m  parliament,  and  at  length 
by  the  total  aboUtion  of  Episcopacy  as  the  national  re- 
li£,aon.  This  was  followed  by  visitations  of  the  univer- 
sities ;  Commissions  of  Triers,  appointed  to  inquire  into 
the  life,  learning,  and  doctrine  of  the  whole  body  of  the 
clergj- ;  and  the  like  radical  cures  for  evils  complained 
of  By  means  of  these  much  good  was  undoubtedly 
etFected,  though  not  without  some  cases  of  harshness  and 
injustice. 

In  December  1647.  Philip  Henr\'  removed  to  Oxford, 
and  in  the  succeeding  month  of  March,  he  wis  fuUy  entered 
as  a  student  of  Christ  Church  College.  *'  The  visitation 
of  the  university  by  the  parliament  happened  the  very 
next  month  after.  Oxford  had  been  for  a  good  while  in 
the  hands  of  the  parliament,  and  no  change  made :  but 
now  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  several  others  thereunto 


42 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


appointed,  came  hither  to  settle  things  upon  a  new  foot- 
ing. The  account  ]\Ir.  Henry  in  his  papers  gives  of  this 
is  to  the  following  purpose :  The  sole  question  which  the 
visitors  proposed  to  each  person,  high  and  low,  in  every 
college,  that  had  any  place  of  profit,  was  this,  'Will  you 
submit  to  the  power  of  the  parliament  in  this  present 
visitation  V  To  which  all  were  to  give  in  their  answer 
in  writing,  and  accordingly  were  either  displaced  or  con- 
tinued. Some  cheerfully  complied,  others  absolutely 
refused;  among  whom  he  would  sometimes  tell  of  one 
that  was  but  of  his  own  standing,  who  gave  in  this  bold 
answer,  '  I  neither  can  nor  will  submit  to  the  power  of 
the  parliament  in  this  present  visitation ;  I  say  I  cannot, 
I  say  I  will  not.'  Others  answered  doubtfully,  plead- 
ing youth  and  ignorance  in  such  matters.  Mr.  Henry's 
answer  was, — I  submit  to  the  power  of  the  parliament 
in  the  present  visitation  so  far  as  I  may  with  a  safe  con- 
science, and  without  perjuiy.  His  reason  for  the  last 
salvo  was,  because  he  had  taken  the  oaths  of  allegiance 
and  supremacy  a  little  before,  at  his  admission;  which 
he  was — according  to  the  character  of  the  good  man, 
that  he  fears  an  oath, — very  jealous  of  doing  anything  to 
contradict  or  infringe;  this  hath  since  made  him  sometimes 
signify  some  dislike  of  that  practice  of  administring  oaths 
to  such  as  were  scarce  past  childhood,  who  could  hardly 
be  supposed  to  take  them  with  judgment,  as  oaths  should 
be  taken.  However,  this  answer  of  )iis  satisfied ;  and, 
by  the  favour  of  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  he  was  continued 
in  his  student's  place.  But  great  alterations  were  made 
in  that,  as  well  as  in  other  colleges,  very  much  to  the 
hinderance  and  discouragement  of  young  scholars,  who 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


43 


came  thither  to  get  learning,  not  to  judge  of  the  rights 
of  government.  Dr.  Samuel  Fell,  the  Dean,  was  removed, 
and  Dr.  Edward  Reynolds,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Norwich, 
was  put  in  his  room.    Dr.  Hammond  and  all  the  Canons, 
except  Dr.  Wall,  were  displaced,  and  Mr.  Wilkinson,  Mr. 
Pococke,  and  others,  of  the  parliament's  friends,  were 
preferred  to  their  places.    His  thoughts  of  this  in  the 
reflection  long  after,  was,  that  mUder  methods  might 
have  done  better,  and  would  have  been  a  firmer  establish- 
ment to  the  new  interest ;  but,  considering  that  many  of 
those  who  were  put  out  (being  in  expectation  of  a  sudden 
change,  which  came  not  many  years  after)  were  exasper- 
ating LQ  their  carriage  towards  the  visitors  ;  and  that  the 
parliament,  who  at  this  time  rode  masters,  had  many  of 
their   own   ft-iends  ready  for  university-preferments, 
'^xford  having  been  from  the  beginning  a  ganison  for  the 
.  A\g)  and  these  they  were  concerned  to  oblige,  it  was 
not  strange  if  they  took  such  strict  methods.     Yet  no- 
thing being  required  but  a  bare  submission,  which  might 
be  interpreted  but  as  crying  quarter,  he  thought  withal, 
that  it  could  not  be  said  the  terms  were  hard,  especially, 
saith  he,  if  compared  with  those  of  another  nature  im- 
posed since. 

Among  other  student-masters,  Mr.  Underwood,  his 
Tutor,  was  removed,  which  he  often  bewailed  as  a  loss  to 
him,  for  he  was  a  good  scholar,  and  one  that  made  it  his 
business  to  look  after  his  pupUs,  who  were  verv*  likely, 
by  the  blessing  of  Grod,  to  have  profited  under  his  con- 
duct. But,  upon  the  removal  of  3Ir.  Underwood,  he  and 
some  others  were  turned  over  to  3Ir.  Finmore,  who  was 
then  in  &vour  with  that  interest  which  was  uppermost, 


44 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


and  was  afterwards  Prebendary  of  Chester  ;  a  person,  as 
he  notes,  able  enough,  but  not  willing  to  employ  his 
abilities  for  the  good  of  those  that  were  committed  to  his 
chai-ge  ;  towards  whom  he  had  little  more  than  the  name 
of  a  tutor.  This  he  lamented  as  his  infeUcity  at  his  first 
setting  out.  But  it  pleased  God  to  give  him  an  interest 
in  the  affections  of  a  young  man,  an  under-graduate  then, 
but  two  or  three  years  his  senior  from  Westminster,  one 
Mr.  Richard  Bryan,  who  took  him  to  be  his  chamber- 
fellow,  while  he  continued  at  Oxford,  read  to  him,  over- 
looked his  studies,  and  directed  him  in  them.  Of  this 
gentlemen  he  makes  very  honourable  mention,  as  one 
who  was,  through  God's  blessing,  an  instrument  of  much 
good  to  him.  Mr.  John  Fell,  also,  the  Dean's  son,  (after- 
wards himself  Dean  of  Christ  Church,  and  Bishop  of 
Oxford,)  taking  pity  on  him  and  some  others  that  were 
neglected,  voluntarily  read  to  them  for  some  time  ;  a 
kindness  of  which  he  ever  retained  a  very  gi-ateful  sense, 

"  Here  he  duly  performed  the  college-exercises,  dispu- 
tations every  day,  in  Term-time  ;  themes  and  verses  once 
a  week,  and  declamations  when  it  came  to  his  turn  ;  in 
which  performances  he  frequently  came  off  A\'ith  very 
great  applause.  And  many  of  his  manuscripts  which 
remain,  show  how  well  he  improved  his  time  there." 

Yet  it  is  only  justice  to  the  subject  of  this  memoir  to 
remark  that  he  himself  looked  back  on  the  season  of  his 
college  studies  with  no  such  self-applause.  Humility 
was  one  of  the  most  prominent  graces  which  he  exhibited 
at  every  period  of  his  life.  He  had  a  lively  sense  at  all 
times  of  his  own  unworthiness  ;  ever  measuring  what 
he  had  done  by  the  unattainable  height  of  his  aspirations, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


45 


or  the  still  loftier  standard  of  God's  own  pure  law.  "  In 
some  reflections  I  find  under  his  liand,"  says  his  son, 
"written  long  after  his  sojourn  at  college,  wherein  he 
looks  back  upon  his  early  days,  he  chargeth  it  upon 
himself,  that  for  a  good  while  after  he  came  to  the 
university,  though  he  was  known  not  to  be  inferior  to 
any  of  his  standing  in  public  exercises,  yet  he  was  too 
much  a  stranger  to  hard  study,  and  that  he  lost  a  deal  of 
time  which  might  have  been  better  improved.  Thus  he  is 
pleased  to  accuse  himself  of  that,  which,  for  aught  I  ever 
heard,  no  one  else  did,  or  could  accuse  him  of.  But  the 
truth  is,  in  all  the  secret  accounts  he  kept  of  himself,  he 
appears  to  have  had  a  very  quick  and  deep  sense  of  his 
own  failings  and  infirmities,  in  the  most  minute  instances; 
the  loss  of  time,  weakness  and  distractions  in  holy  duties, 
not  improving  opportunities  of  doing  good  to  others,  and 
the  like  ;  lamentably  bewailing  these  imperfections,  and 
charging  them  upon  himself,  with  as  great  expressions 
of  shame,  sorrow,  and  self-abhorrence,  and  crying  out  as 
earnestly  for  pardon  and  forgiveness  in  the  blood  of 
J esus,  as  if  he  had  been  the  greatest  of  sinners.  '  I  was,' 
he  writes,  '  too  much  in  love  with  recreation  ;  a  bowling 
green,  I  remember,  out  of  town,  and  a  metheglin-house, 
which  I  often  went  to  in  winter  for  my  morning  draught, 
and  it  was  such  a  draught  as  disfitted  me  for  study  after, 
though  I  cannot  say  I  was  ever  drunk.  These  things 
are  now  bitter  to  me,  and  have  been  formerly,  many  a 
time,  in  the  reflection,  and  here  I  record  them  against 
myself.'  Though  he  was  a  man  that  walked  very 
closely,  yet  withal  he  walked  very  humbly,  with  God, 
and  lived  a  life  of  repentance  and  self-denial.  This 


46 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


reminds  me  of  a  sermon  of  his,  which  one  might  discern 
came  from  the  heart,  on  that  scripture,  0  wretched  man 
that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death !  A  strange  complaint,  saith  he,  to  come  from  the 
mouth  of  one  who  had  learned  in  every  state  to  be  con- 
tent. Had  I  been  to  have  given  my  thoughts,  said  he, 
concerning  Paul,  I  should  have  said,  0  blessed  man  that 
thou  art,  that  hast  been  in  the  third  heaven,  a  great 
apostle,  a  spiritual  father  to  thousands,  &c.,  and  yet  a 
wretched  man  all  this  while,  in  his  own  account  and 
esteem.  He  never  complains  thus  of  the  bonds  and 
afflictions  that  did  abide  him,  the  prisons  that  were 
frequent,  the  stripes  above  measure  ;  but  the  body  of 
death  ;  that  is,  the  body  of  sin,  that  was  it  he  groaned 
under. 

"  But  to  return.  It  may  not  be  amiss  to  set  down  the 
causes  to  which  he  ascribes  his  loss  of  time  when  he 
came  first  to  the  university.  One  was,  that  he  was 
young,  too  young,  and  understood  not  his  opportunities, 
which  made  him  afterwards  advise  his  friends  not  to 
thrust  their  children  forth  too  soon  from  school  to  the 
university,  though  they  may  seem  ripe,  in  respect  of 
learning,  till  they  have  discretion  to  manage  them- 
selves. While  they  are  children,  what  can  be  expected 
but  that  they  should  mind  childish  things  ?  Another 
was,  that,  coming  from  Westminster  School,  his  attain- 
ments in  school-learning  were  beyond  what  many  had 
that  came  from  other  schools  ;  so  that  he  was  tempted 
to  think  there  was  no  need  for  him  to  study  much, 
because  it  was  so  easy  to  keep  pace  with  others  ;  which, 
said  he,  was  the  thing  Dr.  Caldecot,  Chaplain  to  the  Earl 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


47 


of  Pembroke,  and  his  great  friend,  warned  liim  of  at  his 
coming  to  Oxford.  Another  was,  that  there  were  two 
sorts  of  persons,  his  contemporaries;  some  of  the  new 
stamp,  that  came  in  by  the  visitation,  and  were  divers  of 
them  serious,  pious  young  men,  but  of  small  ability, 
compai-atively,  for  learning,  and  those  for  that  reason  he 
desired  not  to  have  much  fellowship  with.  But  there 
were  others  that  were  of  the  old  spirit  and  way,  enemies 
to  the  parliament,  and  the  reformation  they  made  ;  and 
these  were  the  better  scholars,  but  generally  not  the 
better  men.  With  them,  for  a  wliile,  he  struck  in 
because  of  their  learning,  and  conversed  most  with  them ; 
but  he  soon  found  it  a  snare  to  him,  and  that  it  took  him 
off  from  the  hfe  of  rehgion  and  communion  with  God. 
But,  'for  ever  praised  be  the  riches  of  God's  free  grace,' 
saith  he,  in  a  narrative  of  liis  younger  years,  '  that  he 
was  pleased  still  to  keep  his  hold  of  me  ;  and  not  to 
let  me  alone  when  I  was  running  from  him,  but  set 
his  hand  again  the  second  time,  to  snatch  me  as  a  brand 
out  of  the  fire.'  " 


CHAPTER  V. 


WHITEHALL. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  1648,  Henry  obtained 
leave  of  absence  from  his  college,  and  went  up  to  Lon- 
don to  spend  the  Christmas  season  with  his  father  at 


48 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


Whitehall.  A  more  memorable  epoch  has  not  since 
transpired,  than  that  in  which  the  young  Oxford  student 
set  out  to  revisit  the  haunts  of  his  childhood.  Poor 
King  Charles,  driven  from  every  refuge,  and  deprived  of  all 
hope  of  sanctuary  in  the  land  he  had  so  lately  ruled 
with  despotic  power,  had  been  sculking  about  from  place 
to  place,  not  daring  to  seek  shelter  for  two  successive 
nights  in  the  same  retreat.  Disguised  as  a  groom,  and 
with  his  hair  and  beard  clipped,  he  at  length  fled  to  the 
Scots  army  ;  was  delivered  by  them  to  the  parliament 
leaders;  and  after  he  had  proved  to  all  that  no  faith 
could  be  rested  in  "  the  word  of  a  king,"  he  was  at  length 
summoned  to  Westminster  to  stand  before  the  tribunal 
arraigned  for  his  judgment.  Removed  from  one  castle  to 
another  while  his  conquerors  were  determining  his  fate, 
and  with  a  succession  of  jailors,  each  of  whom,  in  turn, 
excited  new  fears  in  the  anxious  mind  of  the  captive 
monarch,  he  at  length  rejoiced  in  finding  himself  anew 
in  his  Palace  of  Windsor.  He  was  attended  by  obsequious 
servants  with  all  the  old  etiquette  of  court,  to  which  he 
had  been  so  long  a  stranger  ;  he  dined  in  state,  attended 
by  the  officials  that  had  been  wont  to  wait  around  the 
throne  ;  and  everything  seemed  to  promise  that  his 
cares  and  sufferings  were  at  an  end.  Suddenly  all  these 
favourable  symptoms  disappeared.  The  poor  King  once 
more  felt  that  those  who  tended  on  him  were  spies  and 
jailors  rather  than  servants,  and  all  the  future  darkened 
OR  his  soul.  Yet  he  was  full  of  his  old  vain  hopes  that 
had  so  often  before  defeated  all  possibility  of  amicable 
arrangement  with  the  parliamentary  leaders.  "I  have 
three  more  cards  to  play,"  exclaimed  he  at  this  time,  to 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


49 


one  of  his  attendants — the  worst  of  which  may  give 
me  back  everything.  Alas  !  Charles  I.  had  played  his 
last  card  ;  and  thrown  it  away !  "  God  is  everywhere," 
said  he,  when  he  learned  he  was  to  be  removed  to  Lon- 
don— "  God  is  everywhere,  alike  in  wisdom,  power, 
and  goodness;"  yet  his  heart  sank  within  him  at  the 
thought. 

Such  were  the  things  transpiring  in  regard  to  John 
Henry's  royal  master,  as  his  son  Philip  was  on  his  way 
to  join  the  family  circle  at  Whitehall  in  that  old  December 
of  1648.  The  hearth  scarce  burns  so  bright  as  was  its 
wont  of  old.  Kings,  like  the  mighty  trees  of  the  forest, 
involve  in  their  fall  al  1  that  have  sheltered  in  their  branches 
or  sought  covert  under  their  shadow.  John  Henry  con- 
tinued during  the  whole  war  to  occupy  his  old  house. 
Barges  came  to  the  orchard-stairs  with  unwonted  guests, 
and  the  deserted  coui-ts  of  the  palace  were  darkened  with 
strange  shadows,  as  their  footsteps  awoke  the  long-silent 
echoes.  The  old  orchard-keeper  was  not  likely  to  excite 
suspicion,  or  be  deemed  worthy  of  revenge  ;  though  he 
was  the  old  servitor  of  royality,  and  mourned  the  im- 
prisonment of  the  fanatic  Laud.  His  religious  opinions, 
moreover,  were  happily  uncourtly,  notwithstanding  his 
staunch  loyalty,  and  so  he  lived  on  there,  while  all 
others,  old  companions  and  fellow-servitors,  were  long 
gone.  But  the  profits  of  his  place  had  all  vanished.  A 
grudging  fare  from  some  rare  visitor  to  the  palace,  with 
such  hoardings  as  the  economy  of  better  times  may  have 
laid  up,  were  all  that  sufficed  for  the  family's  wants. 
Doubtless  the  honest  Welshman  sometimes  thought, 
in  these  hard  times,  of  the  old  home  far  among  the 


50 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


mountains  of  Glamorganshire,  and  of  the  solitaiy 
groat,  that,  with  his  father's  blessing,  was  all  the 
capital  he  had  to  trade  upon  as  he  went  forth  into  the 
world. 

But  now  all  is  stir  and  movement  once  more  in  White- 
hall palace.  Seven  years  had  elapsed  since  that  memor- 
able 10th  of  January,  1642,  in  which  Charles  quited  the 
Palace  of  Whitehall,  mortified,  deserted,  and  burning  for 
revenge ;  while  London  city  was  ringing  with  the  shouts 
of  triumphant  citizens  ;  and  trainbands,  journeymen, 
apprentices,  and  watermen,  were  busy  in  preparation  for 
the  triumphal  return,  on  the  morrow,  of  the  five  mem- 
bers to  Westminster.  What  an  era  had  that  six  years 
been  !  It  seemed  as  if  six  centuries  had  intervened. 
He  left  an  outwitted,  overmatched,  but  still  despotic 
king,  with  a  people  still  ready  to  have  acknowledged  his 
poorest  concessions  with  gratitude ;  he  returned  a  solitary, 
vanquished,  helpless,  captive.  One  sees  the  thoughts  of 
the  dethroned  monarch,  even  in  his  simple  inquiry  for 
his  old  servant,  Mr.  John  Henry,  and  his  exclamation, 
"  Art  thou  yet  alive  ?"  To  him  these  few  years  seemed  an 
age.  He  was  surprised  that  even  one  familiar  face  could 
be  found  amid  these  altered  scenes.  Nor  was  the  sur- 
prise unreasonable.  He  was  not  only  an  old,  but  also 
a  faithful  servant,  the  sole  untarnished  memorial  of  ear- 
lier, happier  years. 

On  the  20th  of  January,  towards  noon,  the  high  court 
constituted  for  the  trial  of  Charles  L,  King  of  England, 
assembled  in  the  Painted  Chamber  at  Westminster,  and 
the  King  was  brought  for  the  first  time  to  face  his 
judges.    He  was  conveyed  through  the  Palace  of  White- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


61 


hall  to  the  old  orchard-stair.  When  last  young  Henry 
stood  there,  reverently  to  doff  his  hat,  and  bend  his  knee 
to  royalty,  he  was  a  thoughtless  boy  some  eleven  years 
of  age,  the  merry  playmate  of  the  young  princes  Charles 
and  James.  Now  he  is  a  grave  student,  a  lad  of  nearly 
eighteen  years  of  age,  with  his  own  deep  earnest  thoughts 
on  the  great  movements  he  is  witnessing.  His  son, 
long  afterwards  writing  of  this  period,  thus  refers  to  the 
last  reverence  paid  by  his  old  grandfather  to  his  royal 
master  : — "  He  continued,  during  all  the  war  time,  in  his 
house  at  Whitehall,  though  the  profits  of  his  places  ceased. 
The  King,  passing  by  his  door,  under  a  guard,  to  take 
water,  when  he  was  going  to  Westminster,  to  that  which 
they  called  his  trial,  inquired  for  his  old  servant,  Mr. 
.John  Henry,  who  was  ready  to  pay  his  due  respects  to 
him,  and  prayed  God  to  bless  his  Majesty,  and  to  deliver 
him  out  of  the  hands  of  his  enemies  ;  for  which  the 
guard  had  like  to  have  been  rough  upon  him." 

The  public  events  that  followed  this  are  well  known. 
The  King  was  condemned  as  "a  tyi-ant,  traitor,  and 
murderer,"  by  whose  abuse  of  his  high  office  innocent 
blood  had  been  shed  like  water.  We  need  not  discuss 
here  whether  the  Commons  of  England  were  justified  in 
thus  arraigning  their  sovereign  before  such  a  tribunal. 
With  the  fact  only  we  need  deal.  He  is  condemned  to 
death.  The  Palace  of  Whitehall  has  become  his 
prison,  while  young  Philip  Henry  is  passing  his  holidays 
there.  One  circumstance  transpiring  in  these  last  hours 
of  Charles  I.,  on  the  29th  of  Januaiy,  the  day  after  doom 
had  been  pronounced  in  Westminster  Hall,  tells  so 
keenly  of  loving  hearts  and  human  affections  amid  these 


52 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


stem  deeds  of  retribution,  that  it  may  fitly  find  place 
among  these  records  of  youthful  yeai-s.  The  following  is 
the  touching  scene  enacting  there — the  last  parting  with 
a  beloved  parent — the  last  tie  to  earth  breaking — and 
then  the  great  bitterness  of  death. 

"  After  morning  prayer,  the  King  produced  a  box,  con- 
taining broken  crosses  of  the  order  of  St.  George  and  of 
the  garter:  'You  see,'  he  said  to  Bishop  Juxon,  'all 
the  wealth  now  in  my  power  to  give  my  two  children.' 
The  children  were  then  brought  to  him  ;  on  seeing  her 
father,  the  princess  EHzabeth,  twelve  years  old,  burst 
into  tears  ;  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  who  was  only  eight, 
wept  also  when  he  saw  his  sister  weeping  ;  Charles  took 
them  upon  his  knees,  divided  his  jewels  between  them, 
consoled  his  daughter,  gave  her  advice  as  to  the  books 
she  was  to  read  to  strengthen  herself  against  Popery, 
charged  her  to  tell  her  brothers  that  he  had  forgiven  his 
enemies,  her  mother  that  in  thought  he  had  ever  been 
with  fier.  and  that  to  the  last  hour  he  loved  her  as  dearly 
as  on  their  marriage  day  ;  then  turning  towards  the 
little  Duke  :  '  My  dear  heart,'  he  said, '  they  will  soon 
cut  off  thy  father's  head.'  The  child  looked  at  him 
fixedly  and  earnestly  :  '  Mark,  child,  what  I  say  ;  they 
will  cut  off  my  head,  and  perhaps  make  thee  king  ;  but 
mark  what  I  say,  thou  must  not  be  king  so  long  as  thy 
brothers  Charles  and  James  live,  but  they  will  cut  off 
thy  brothers'  heads  if  they  can  catch  them  ;  and  thine 
too  they  will  cut  off  at  last !  Therefore  I  charge  thee 
do  not  be  made  a  king  by  them.'  '  I  will  be  torn 
in  pieces  first  !'  replied  the  child  with  great  emotion, 
Charles  fervently  kissed  him,  put  him  do^vn,  kissed  his 


THE  RET.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


63 


daughter,  blessed  them  both,  and  called  upon  God  to 
bless  them  ;  then  suddenly  rising  :  '  Have  them  taken 
away,'  he  said  to  Juxon  ;  the  children  sobbed  aloud  ; 
the  King,  standing  with  his  head  pressed  against  the 
window,  tried  to  suppress  his  tears  ;  the  door  opened, 
the  children  were  going  out,  Charles  ran  from  the  window, 
took  them  again  in  his  arms,  blessed  them  once  more, 
and  at  last  tearing  himself  from  their  caresses,  fell 
upon  his  knees  and  began  to  pray  with  the  Bishop 
and  Herbert,  the  only  witnesses  of  this  deeply  painful 
scene." 

Already  the  sounds  of  axe  and  hammer  announce  that 
the  scaffold  is  preparing  for  the  last  act  of  this  great 
tragedy.  The  morrow — the  30th  of  January,  1648,  is 
the  day  appointed  for  execution.  All  London  is 
astir.  It  is  incredible  to  most  men  that  such  a  thing 
can  be.  Not  even  all  these  yeare  of  civil  strife  have 
discrowned  the  King,  or  robbed  him  of  the  divinity  that 
to  the  popular  mind  did  then  hedge  in  the  sovereign.  It 
was  in  truth,  perhaps,  the  most  daring  act  man  ever 
tried,  this  beheading  of  a  king.  With  calm  dignity,  and 
stern  unyielding  rigour,  these  Englishmen  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  did  it  ;  and  the  world  learned,  astonished, 
that  kings  are,  after  all,  but  men. 

Philip  Henry  mingled  in  the  vast  crowd  that  thronged 
in  front  of  Whitehall  Palace  ;  and  witnessed  the  final  act 
that  closed  the  career  of  Charles  L,  and  delivered  Eng- 
land for  a  time  from  the  Stuarts'  rule.  His  son  thus 
speaks  of  the  scene,  as  he  remembered  his  father's  narra- 
tion of  it.  "  There  he  was,  January  30,  when  the  King 
was  beheaded,  and  with  a  very  sad  heart  saw  that  tragical 


54 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


blow  given.  Two  things  he  used  to  relate,  that  he 
took  notice  of  himself  that  day,  which  I  know  not 
if  any  of  the  historians  mention.  One  was,  that  at 
the  instant  when  the  blow  was  given,  there  was  such 
a  dismal  universal  groan  among  the  thousands  of  people 
that  were  within  sight  of  it,  as  it  were  with  one  consent, 
such  as  he  never  heard  before,  and  desired  he  might  never 
hear  the  like  again,  nor  see  such  a  cause  for  it.  The 
other  was,  that  immediately  after  the  stroke  was  struck, 
there  was,  according  to  order,  one  troop  marching  from 
Charing  Crosfe  towards  King  Street,  and  another  from 
King  Street  towards  Charing  Cross,  purposely  to  disperse 
and  scatter  the  people,  and  to  divert  the  dismal  thoughts 
with  which  they  could  not  but  be  filled,  by  driving  them 
to  shift  every  one  for  his  own  safety.  On  all  occasions 
he  testified  his  abhorrence  of  this  unparalleled  action, 
which  he  always  said  was  a  thing  that  could  not  be  jus- 
tified, and  yet  he  said  he  saw  not  how  it  could  be  called 
a  national  sin  ;  for,  as  the  King  urged  upon  his  trial,  it 
was  certain  that  not  one  man  of  ten  in  the  kingdom  did 
consent  to  it ;  nor  could  it  be  called  the  sin  of  the  long 
parliament,  for  the  greatest  part  of  them  were  im- 
prisoned while  the  thing  was  in  agitation,  and  kept 
imder  force,  and  scarce  twenty-seven  of  the  forty  that 
were  left  to  carry  the  name  of  a  parliament,  did  give 
their  vote  for  it ; — a  fact  which  the  Commissioners  for 
the  trying  of  the  King's  Judges,  in  the  year  1660,  (some 
of  whom  had  been  themselves  members  of  the  long  par- 
liament,) urged  again  and  again,  in  answer  to  that  plea 
which  the  prisoners  stood  so  much  upon,  that  what  they 
did  was  by  authority  of  the  parliament.    But  it  is  mani- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


56 


feet  it  was  done  by  a  prevailing  party  in  the  amiy,  who, 
as  he  used  to  express  it,  having  beaten  their  ploughshares 
into  swords,  could  not  so  easily  beat  theii*  swords  into 
ploughshares  again,  having  fought  more  for  victory  and  do- 
minion than  for  peace  and  truth ;  but  how  far  these  men 
were  acted  on  and  influenced  by  another  sort  of  people 
behind  the  curtain,  the  world  is  not  altogether  ignorant. 
For  some  years  after  Charles  II.  came  in,  Philip  Henry  ob- 
served the  yearly  day  of  humiliation  for  this  sin,  desiring 
■fliat  God  would  not  lay  the  guilt  of  blood  to  the  charge 
of  the  nation.  But,  afterwards,  finding  to  what  purposes 
it  was  generally  observed,  and  improved  even  to  the  re- 
j^oach  and  condemnation,  not  only  of  the  innocent,  but 
of  some  of  the  excellent  ones  of  the  land,  and  noting  that 
there  is  no  precedent  in  Scripture  of  keeping  annual  days 
of  humiliation  for  particular  sins  ;  especially  after  the 
immediate  judgment  is  at  an  end;  he  took  no  further 
notice  of  it.  But  in  his  diary  he  adds  this  tender  re- 
mark, according  to  the  spirit  he  was  of,  '  Yet  good  men, 
no  doubt,  may  observe  it  to  the  Lord.'  Thus  he  judged 
not,  and  why  then  should  he  be  judged  V  A  day  of  hu- 
miliation, indeed,  wherein  a  nation  humbles  itself  like  the 
Ninevites  of  old,  asking  of  one  another  in  their  deep  peni- 
tence, "  Who  can  tell  if  God  will  turn  and  repent,  and 
turn  away  from  his  fierce  anger,  that  we  perish  not  ? " 
such  a  day  might  well  be  looked  upon  with  sympathy  by 
fttie  who,  in  his  childhood,  had  eaten  of  the  King's  bread, 
and  partaken  of  his  fe,vour.  But  the  humiliation  of  re- 
storation cavaliers  and  a  restoration  court,  wherein, — 
forgetful  of  their  own  vice  and  foul  licentiousness,  witli 
all  their  own  sins  unrepented  of, — they  assumed  an  atti- 


56 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


tude  of  humility  and  words  of  penitence,  deploring  before 
God  that  England  should  have  had  men  who  dared  to 
assert  her  liberty  against  a  despot's  will, — that  was  not  a 
humiliation  such  as  he  could  join  in,  who  himself  re- 
noimced  all  worldly  aavan cages,  rather  than  comply  with 
the  requirements  of  eniorced  conformity.  Yet  the  sym- 
pathies of  the  good  man  were  with  those  who  mourned 
the  execution  of  tho  King,  and  remembered  the  bloody 
scaffold  at  Whitehall.  In  his  own  private  diary  the  fol- 
lowing entries  attest  that  his  feelings  were  as  strong  as 
those  of  the  most  thorough-going  cavalier  of  Charles's 
court.  "1671.  Jan.  30.  Brings  to  remembrance  the 
horrid  murder  of  the  late  King.  Deliver  the  nation  from 
blood-guiltiness,  0  God  !"  "  1673.  Jan.  30.  We  re- 
membered this  day  the  death  of  Charles  I.  with  grief, 
and  prayer, — that  God  would  please  to  forgive  it. — Exod. 
XX.  5. — visiting  the  iniquity.'''' 

We  can  conceive  him  turning  from  the  polhi*,ed  offer- 
ings that  such  proud-hearted  penitents  as  Charles's  cour- 
tiers were  offering  to  God  ;  and,  opening  his  Bible,  read- 
ing the  soul-stirring  words  of  Isaiah,  which  we  too  may 
read  with  profit.  Give  ear  unto  the  law  of  our  God, 
ye  people  .  .  .  When  ye  come  to  appeur  before  me, 
who  hath  required  this  at  your  hand,  to  tread  my  courts  1 
Bring  no  more  vain  oblations  ;  incense  is  an  abomination 
unto  me  :  the  new-moons  and  sabbaths,  the  calling  of 
assemblies,  I  cannot  away  with  ;  it  is  iniquity,  even  the 
solemn  meeting.  Your  new-moons  and  your  appointed 
feasts  my  soul  hateth  :  they  are  a  trouble  unto  me  ;  I 
am  weary  to  bear  them.  And  when  ye  spread  forth  your 
hands,  I  will  hide  mine  eyes  from  you  ;  yea,  when  ye 


THE  REV,  PHILIP  HENRY. 


67 


make  many  prayers,  I  will  not  hear  :  your  hands  are  full 
of  blood. 

"  Wash  you,  make  you  clean  ;  put  away  the  evil  of 
your  doings  from  before  mine  eyes  ;  cease  to  do  evil  ; 
learn  to  do  well ;  seek  judgment ;  relieve  the  oppressed  ; 
judge  the  fatherless  ;  plead  for  the  widow.  Come  now, 
and  let  us  reason  together,  saith  the  Lord  :  Though  your 
sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow  ;  though 
they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  wool.  If  ye  be 
willing  and  obedient,  ye  shall  cat  the  good  of  the  land  : 
But  if  ye  refuse  and  rebel,  ye  shall  be  devoured  with  the 
sword  :  for  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it." 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  men  of  that  age  to  apply 
these  old  Hebrew  prophecies  to  the  events  of  their  own 
time.  They  were  mighty  events,  and  the  sublime  lan- 
guage of  prophecy  seemed  to  them  often  to  shadow  forth 
thoughts  such  as  better  suited  these  momentous  trans- 
I  actions  than  any  words  of  their  owa.  To  us  who  look 
back  on  the  proud  courtiers  of  the  restoration  era,  and  the 
dark  schemes  of  tho  succeeding  reign  ;  with  the  final 
banishment  of  that  doomed  i-ace  of  the  Stuarts  from  the 
throne  they  had  abused  to  tyrany,  oppression,  and  blood, 
— seems  it  not  as  if  we  too  could  read  in  these  old  words 
of  the  Hebrew  prophet,  the  warning  to  the  men  of  Eng- 
land,— the  threatenings,  the  judgments,  and  the  final 
doom  to  her  princes  !  "Weighed  w^ere  they  in  the  balance, 
and  found  wanting  !  Romance  still  strives,  with  some 
success,  to  add  a  fictitious  interest  to  their  memory ;  but 
the  severe  judgment  of  truth,  which  treasures  the  me- 
mory of  these  sons  of  Magdalen  Rochdale,  as  the  seed  of 
the  righteous,  who  have  won  their  place  among  Eng- 


58 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


0 


land's  worthies,  pronounces  the  doom  of  the  Stuarts  as  a 
degenerate  race,  the  ignoble  scions  of  an  ancient  and  Tgir- 
tuous  line  of  kings.  We  wander,  however,  beguiled  by 
the  reflections  of  Philip  Henry's  pious  biographer,  to  an- 
ticipate the  events  that  marked  that  seventeenth  century 
in  which  his  noble  coarse  was  run. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CHRIST  CHURCH,  OXFORD. 

Philip  Henry  returned  to  his  college  at  Oxford,  and 
resumed  his  former  course  of  studies.  His  friend  and 
chamber-fellow,  Richard  Bryan,  and  he,  doubtless,  had 
many  a  grave  discussion  on  the  events  witnessed  by  him 
at  Westminster.  He  and  others  who  had  not  had  the 
opportunity  of  seeing  the  deed  that  struck  such  awe 
and  terror  to  the  farthest  corner  of  England,  would 
have  a  thousand  questions  to  put  to  one  who  had  been  a 
resident  at  Whitehall  while  the  King  was  there  ;  had 
doffed  his  cap  to  him  as  he  stepped  into  his  barge  at 
the  orchard- stairs,  on  his  way  to  the  judgment-bar  of 
Westminster  Hall ;  and  had  stood  amid  the  vast  crowd 
around  the  Banquet  Hall  of  Whitehall  Palace,  and  with 
a  sad  heart  saw  the  axe  descend,  and  the  masked  execu- 
tioner hold  up  the  decollated  head,  and  pronounce  aloud 
"  This  is  the  head  of  a  traitor  to  which  the  multitude 
responded  by  one  dismal,  universal  groan. 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


59 


Time,  however,  which  helps  the  constant  stream  to 
deepen  its  channel,  soon  dries  up  the  pools  it  may  have 
left  on  the  banks.  Youthful  impressions,  however  serious, 
soon  yield  to  the  more  exciting  occupations  of  the  mo- 
ment ;  and  to  the  young  scholar  of  Christ  Church,  all 
the  threatening  of  the  political  horizon  probably  seemed 
insignificant,  compared  with  the  anticipated  honours  of 
the  university.  Philip  Henry  w^as  a  diligent  student — 
as  his  acquirements  in  later  life  amply  proved  ;  though 
he  speaks  thus  modestly  of  his  own  application,  when 
reverting  to  the  subject  in  one  of  the  entries  of  his  diary  : 
"  What  must  needs  be  done  in  college-exercise,  for 
disputations  every  day  in  Term-time,  for  themes  and 
verses  once  a  week,  ^nd  for  declamations,  when  it  came 
to  my  turn,  I  did  as  others  of  my  standing,  and  some- 
times had  praise  for  it.  But  as  for  that  which  we  call 
I  hard  study,  giving  myself  to  reading,  late  and  early,  and 
I  digesting  what  I  read,  by  daily  serious  review,  I  was  too 
,  much  a  stranger  to  it."  The  testimony  of  his  son  in- 
forms us,  that  his  appearances  in  the  frequent  examina- 
tions to  which  the  students  were  subjected,  often  won 
for  him  very  great  applause. 

He  continued  several  years  at  college ;  and  the  best 
evidence  of  the  use  he  made  of  his  advantages  is  to  be 
found  in  the  successive  honours  which  rewarded  his  high 
literaiy  attainments.  "  In  the  year  1650-51,"  says  his 
biographer,  "  he  took  his  Bachelor  of  Arts  degree,  and  he 
records  the  goodness  of  God  in  raising  him  up  friends, 

I who  helped  him  out  in  the  expenses.  Such  kindnesses 
have  a  peculiar  sweetness  in  them  to  a  good  man,  who  sees 
and  receives  them  as  from  God,  and  the  tokens  of  his  love. 


60 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


He  would  often  mention  with  thankfulness  to  God, 
what  great  helps  and  advantages  he  had  then  in  the 
university,  not  only  for  learning,  but  for  religion  and 
piety.  Serious  godliness  was  in  reputation,  and  besides 
the  public  opportunities  thej'^  had,  many  of  the  scholars 
used  to  meet  together  for  prayer  and  Christian  conference, 
to  the  great  confirming  of  one  another's  hearts  in  the 
fear  and  love  of  God,  and  the  preparing  of  them  for  the 
service  of  the  church  in  their  generation.  I  have  heard 
him  speak  of  the  prudent  method  they  took  then  about 
the  university  sermons  on  the  Lord's  day  in  the  after- 
noon, which  used  to  be  preached  by  the  fellows  of  col- 
leges in  their  course  ;  but  that  being  found  not  so  much  for 
edification.  Dr.  Owen  and  Dr.  Goodwin  performed  that 
service  alternately,  and  the  young  masters  that  were  wont 
to  preach  it,  had  a  lecture  on  Tuesday  appointed  them. 

"  In  December,  1652,  he  took  hi.  degree  of  Master  of 
Arts,  and  in  January  following  preached  his  fii-st  sermon 
at  South  Hinksey,  in  Oxfordshire,  on  John  viii.  34. 
*  Whosoever  committeth  sin  is  the  servant  of  sin.'  On 
this  occasion  he  notes  in  his  diary  what  was  the  breath- 
ing of  his  heart  towards  God  :  The  Lord  make  use  of 
me  as  an  instrument  of  his  glory  and  his  church's  good, 
in  this  high  and  holy  calling. 

"  His  great  parts  and  improvement,  notwithstanding 
his  modesty  and  extraordinary  humility,  had  made  him  so 
well  known  in  the  university,  that  in  the  following  act,  in 
July  1653,  he  was  chosen  out  ofall  the  masters  of  that  year, 
to  be  junior  of  the  act,  that  is,  to  answer  the  philosophy 
questions  in  Vesperiis,  which  he  did  with  very  great  ap- 
plause ;  especially  for  the  very  witty  and  ingenious  ora- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


61 


tions  which  he  made  to  the  university  upon  that  occa- 
sion. His  questions  were  :  1,  An  licitum  sit  camibus 
vesci  ?  Aff.  2.  An  institutio  academiarum  sit  utilis  in 
republica  ?  Aff.  3.  An  ingenium  pendeat  ab  humoribus 
corporis  ?  Aff.  At  the  act  in  1654,  lie  was  chosen  Ma- 
gister  Replicans,  and  answered  the  philosophy  questions 
in  comitiis,  with  a  like  applause.  ' 

"  Dr.  Owen,  who  was  then  Vice- Chancellor,  spoke  Avitli 
great  commendation  of  these  performances  of  Mr.  Henry  s 
to  some  in  the  university  afterwards,  who  never  knew 
him  otherwise  than  by  report ;  and  I  have  heard  a  wor- 
thy divine  who  was  somewhat  his  junior  in  the  university, 
and  there  a  perfect  stranger  to  him,  say  how  much  he 
admired  these  exercises,  and  loved  him  for  them.  Yet 
he  much  more  admired,  when  he  afterwards  became  ac- 
quainted with  him  in  the  country,  that  so  curious  and 
polite  an  orator  should  become  so  profitable  and  power- 
ful a  preacher,  and  so  readily  lay  aside  the  enticing  words 
of  man's  wisdom,  which  were  so  easy  to  him. 

"  There  is  a  copy  of  Latin  verses  of  his  in  print,  among 
the  poems  which  the  university  of  Oxford  published  upon 
the  peace  concluded  with  Holland,  in  the  year  1654, 
which  show  him  to  be  no  less  a  poet  than  an  orator. 

"  He  noted  it  of  some  pious  young  men,  that  before 
they  removed  from  the  university  into  the  country,  they 
kept  a  day  of  fasting  and  humiliation  for  the  sins  they 
had  been  guilty  of  in  that  place  and  state.  And  in  the 
i  visits  he  made  afterwards  to  the  university,  he  inserts 
I  into  his  book,  as  no  doubt  God  did  into  his,  a  tear  dropt 
over  my  university  sins  " — a  note  on  which  his  more  re- 
cent biogi-apher,  Sir  J.  B.  Williams,  remarks  :  "  May  not 


02 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


Sterne  have  had  in  view  this  sentence  when  he  penned 
the  well-known  passage  :  '  The  accusing  spirit  which 
flew  up  to  heaven's  chancery  with  the  oath,  blushed  as 
he  gave  it  in  ;  and  the  Recording  Angel,  as  he  wrote  it 
down,  dropped  a  tear  upon  the  word,  and  blotted  it  out 
for  ever.' " 

But  while  we  thus  note  the  progress  of  the  young 
student  of  Christ  Church,  we  must  return  once  more  to 
the  old  chambers  in  Whitehall  Palace,  where  the  happy 
years  of  childhood  and  early  youth  had  been  passed. 
There  all  old  ties  were  for  ever  broken,  long  ere  the 
modest  student  had  won  his  last  honours  at  Oxford.  His 
father  had  stinggled  on  against  increasing  difficulties,  un- 
till  that  dread  30th  of  January,  with  its  dark  scaffold, 
and  executioners,  its  axe  and  block,  its  chamber  of 
death,  and  maimed  rites  to  a  murdered  king — murdered 
as  he  believed,  in  his  heart.  Then  all  hope  sunk  within 
him.  He  drooped  and  pined  away,  like  the  faithful 
spaniel,  at  liis  master's  grave.  "  He  lived,"  says  his 
grandson,  "  and  died  a  courtier,  a  hearty  mourner  for 
his  royal  master  King  Charles  I.,  whom  he  did  not 
long  survive."  In  December,  165^,  John  Henry 
heard  from  his  son  that  he  had  won  his  degree  of 
Master  of  Arts :  in  the  February  following,  Philip  learned 
that  his  father  was  no  more.  He  was  only  in  his  forty- 
third  year,  in  the  vigour  of  manhood.  After  a  life  of 
many  mercies,  and  some  sore  trials,  his  task  was  done. 
While  he  bore  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  his  sun 
went  down  at  noon,  and  the  good  man  was  home,  and 
at  his  rest.  Thus  toucliingiy  does  his  son  record  the 
bereavement  that  left  him  an  orphan,  dependent  on  the 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


63 


kindness  of  the  friends  his  own  modest  worth  had  raised 
up  for  him  at  Oxford. 

"  He  had  left  his  native  country  and  his  father's  house 
very  young,  unprovided  for  by  his  relations,  hut  it  pleased 
God  to  bless  his  ingenuity  and  industry  with  a  consider- 
able income  afterwards,  which  enabled  him  to  live  com- 
fortably himself,  to  bring  up  his  children  well,  and  to  be 
kind  to  many  of  his  relations  ;  but  public  events  mak- 
ing against  him  at  his  latter  end,  when  he  died,  he  left 
little  behind  him  for  his  children,  but  God  graciously 
took  care  of  them." 

The  reader  will  bear  in  remembrance  in  this,  as  in 
similar  dates  throughout  the  work,  that  the  year  then 
began,  according  to  the  "  old  style,"  in  March  ;  the 
English  nation  not  having  as  yet  adopted  the  Gregorian 
calender,  although  it  had  been  in  use  in  Scotland,  as  in 
all  Roman  Catholic  countries,  long  before.  According  to 
modem  reckoning  the  28th  of  February,  1652,  corres- 
ponds with  the  10th  of  March,  lb'53.  On  that  day 
Philip  Henry  was  left  an  orphan,  to  struggle  as  best  he 
might,  against  the  troubles  that  environed  him  and  his 
young  sisters.  Foi-tunately  he  was  already  sufficiently 
advanced  in  his  studies  at  college  to  be  placed  beyond 
fear  of  any  interniption  or  loss  in  acquu'ing  that  which 
is  far  better  than  a  fortune  to  the  diligent  student.  His 
period  of  pupilage  was  drawing  to  a  close.  He  was  now 
to  enter  on  new  scenes  and  important  duties,  for  which 
he  had  even  higher  qualifications  than  all  the  honours 
and  preferments  of  a  college  could  bestow. 


64 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  Of 


CHAPTER  VII. 

PROBATION  AT  EMERAL  CALL 


It  is  worthy  of  notice,  in  tracing  the  career  of  this 
eminent  Nonconformist  divine,  that  in  whatever  degree 
his  opinions  on  church  polity,  and  the  union  of  ecclesi- 
astical establishments  with  the  civil  power,  may  have 
been  changed  in  after-life,  it  w^as  as  a  Presbyterian  that 
he  devoted  himself  to  study  for  holy  orders,  and  as  a 
Presbyterian  minister  that  he  was  ordained.  ■  It  has 
been  already  abundantly  shown  in  the  opinions  he  in- 
variably expressed  in  reference  to"^  the  trial  of  King 
Charles  I.  and  the  Protectorate  government  that  suc- 
ceeded his  execution,  that  he  had  no  sympathy  with  the 
political  movements  of  the  Independent  party.  In  this 
he  was  doubtless  chiefly  influenced  by  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  his  birth  and  education.  It  was 
scarcely  possible  that  the  gentle  and  retiring  student 
who  had  been  born  and  brought  up  in  Wliitehall  palace, 
— the  dependant  of  the  court,  and  the  humble  playmate 
of  the  princes  who  afterwards  succeeded  to  the  throne, 
— should  be  otherwise  tlian  a  royalist.  That  the  child 
whose  early  recollections  were  of  the  condescending 
favours  of  Laud,  and  perhaps  his  first  pocket-money 
the  new  silver  he  received  from  the  imprisoned  Pri- 
mate, should  afterwards  become  eminent  as  a  Puritan 
divine  and  a  Nonconformist  confessor,  may  much  more 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


65 


surprise  us.  Although  we  have  already  seen  him  preach- 
ing his  first  sermon  at  South  Hinksey,  in  Oxfordshire, 
he  had  not  yet  been  admitted  by  ordination  into  the 
ministerial  office  ;  he  was  only  what  is  styled  in  Pres- 
byterian Scotland  a  probationer,  his  degree  of  Master  of 
Arts  being  then  equivalent  to  the  license  of  the  presbytery 
by  which  a  candidate  for  holy  orders  is  declared  fit  to 
undertake  the  ministerial  charge  of  a  congregation. 
He  was  not,  however,  suffered  to  remain  long  in  the 
luxurious  enjojTnent  of  such  literary  ease  as  an  Oxford 
scholarship  afforded.  lie  was  selected  as  one  peculiarly 
fit  for  the  office  of  tutor  and  domestic  chaplain  in  the 
family  of  John  Puleston,  Esquire,  one  of  the  judges  of 
the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  the  principal  family  in 
the  parish  of  Worthenbury,  Flintshire.  It  was  no  doubt 
deemed  a  very  desirable  appointment  for  the  Oxford 
scholar,  "for  which  very  honourable  encouragement 
was  promised,"  though  one  is  inclined  to  smile  at  the 
letter  from  the  Judge's  lady  to  her  cousin  at  Oxford,  who 
had  selected  the  chaplain  and  tutor  at  her  desire.  She 
remarks : — "  I  rely  so  much  on  your  choice  of  the  gen- 
tleman proposed,  that  there  needs  no  further  trouble;" 
and  then,  after  the  discussion  of  various  details,  she 
adds,  "  I  have  delivered  the  beaier  £5  for  the  gentleman, 
in  part  of  the  first  quarter.  What  the  charge  of  the 
journey  takes  out  of  it  I  will  supply  at  the  quarter's 
end,  when  I  pay  the  rest,  to  make  out  £l5.  I  have 
sent  a  horse  and  a  footman  to  wait  on  him  hither." 

But  his  son  has  furnished  us  both  with  a  minute  ac- 
count of  the  place,  and  of  the  circumstances  which  led 
to  this  choice  of  Henry  as  the  person  to  go  to  the  family 

B 


66  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 

of  the  Pulestons  of  Emeral  Hall,  at  Worthenbury ;  a 
choice  which  exercised  so  important  an  influence  on  his 
whole  fiitui-e  career  : — "  Worthenburj^  is  a  little  town 
by  Dee  side,  in  that  Hundred  of  Flintshire  which  is 
separated  some  miles  from  the  rest  of  the  county,  and 
known  by  the  name  of  English  Mailors,  because  though 
it  is  reputed  in  Wales,  as  pertaining  to  Flintshire,  yet  in 
language  and  customs  it  is  wholly  English,  and  lies  mostly 
between  Cheshire  and  Shropshire.  Worthenbury  was  of 
old  a  parochial  chapel,  belonging  to  the  rectory  of  Bangor, 
but  was  separated  from  it  in  the  year  1658,  by  the  trus- 
tees for  uniting  and  dividing  parishes,  and  was  made  a 
parish  of  itself.  But  what  was  then  done  being  vacated 
by  the  King's  coming  in,  it  then  came  to  be  in  statu  quo, 
and  continued  an  appurtenant  to  Bangor,  till,  in  the 
second  year  of  the  reign  of  King  William  and  Queen  Marj-^, 
it  was  again  by  act  of  parliament  separated,  and  made 
independent  of  Bangor.  That  was  the  only  act  which 
passed  the  rdyal  assent  with  the  act  of  recognition,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  second  parliament  of  this  reign,  Sir 
John  Trevor,  the  Speaker,  being  father-in-law  to  Sir  Roger 
Puleston,  the  patron.  The  principal  family  in  Worthen- 
bury parish,  is  that  of  the  Pulestons  of  Emeral.  The 
head  of  the  family  was  then  John  Puleston,  Serjeant  at 
Law,  one  of  the  Judges  of  the  Common  Pleas. 

"  This  was  the  family  to  which  Mr.  Henry  came  from 
Christ  Church,  after  he  had  completed  his  Master's  de- 
gree, in  1653;  ordered  into  that  remote,  and  unto  him 
unknown,  corner  of  the  country,  by  that  overruling  Pro- 
vidence which  determineth  the  times  before  appointed, 
and  the  bounds  of  our  habitation. 


THE  REV.  PDILIP  HENRY. 


67 


"The  Judge's  lady  was  a  person  of  more  than  ordinary 
parts  and  wisdom,  in  piety  inferior  to  few,  but  in  learning 
superior  to  most  of  her  sex,  of  which  I  could  give  in- 
stances from  what  I  find  among  Mr.  Henry's  papers,  par- 
ticularly an  elegy  she  made  upon  the  death  of  the  femous 
Selden,  who  was  her  great  friend. 

"  This  was  the  lady  whose  agency  first  brought  Mr. 
Henry  into  tliis  country.  She  wrote  to  her  friend,  Mr. 
Francis  Palmer,  student  of  Christ  Church,  desiring  him 
to  recommend  to  her  a  young  man  to  take  the  oversight 
of  her  sons,  some  of  whom  were  now  ready  for  the  uni- 
versity, and  to  preach  at  Worthenbury  on  the  Lord's 
days,  for  which  a  very  honourable  encouragement  was 
promised.  Mr.  Palmer  proposed  it  to  his  friend  Mr. 
Henry,  who  was  willing  for  one  half-year  to  imdertake 
it,  provided  it  might  be  required  of  him  to  preach  but 
once  on  the  Lord's  day,  and  that  some  other  supply  might 
be  got  for  the  other  part  of  the  day,  he  being  now  but 
twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  newly  entered  upon  that 
great  work.  Provided  also,  that  he  should  be  engaged 
but  for  half  a  year,  as  he  little  intended  to  break  oflF  so 
soon  from  an  academical  life,  which  he  so  much  delighted 
in.  But  prefen-ing  usefulness  before  his  own  private 
satisfaction,  he  was  willing  to  make  trial  for  a  while  in 
the  country,  as  one  that  sought  not  his  own  things,  but 
the  things  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  whose  service  in  the  work 
of  the  ministry  he  had  devoted  himself,  bending  his 
studies  wholly  that  way. 

"  In  the  latter  part  of  his  time  at  Oxford,  as  one  grown 
weary  of  that  which  he  used  to  say  he  found  little  to  his 
purpose,  he  employed  his  time  mostly  in  searching  the 


es 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


Scriptures,  and  collecting  useful  Scripture  observations, 
which  he  made  very  familiar  to  him,  and  with  which  he 
was  thoroughly  furnished  for  this  good  work.  He  got  a 
Bible  interleaved,  in  whicli  he  wrote  short  notes  upon 
texts  of  Scripture  as  they  occurred.  He  would  often  say, 
— I  read  other  books,  that  I  may  be  tlie  better  able  to  un- 
derstand the  Scripture. 

"  Though  so  great  a  master  in  the  eloquence  of  Cicero, 
yet  he  preferred  far  before  it  that  of  Apollos,  who  was  an 
eloquent  man,  and  mighty  in  the  Scriptures. 

"  He  bid  very  fair  at  that  time  for  university  prefer- 
ment, sucli  was  the  reputation  he  had,  and  his  interest 
with  Dr.  Owen  ;  but  the  salvation  of  souls  was  that  which 
his  heart  was  set  upon,  and  to  this  lie  postponed  all  his 
other  interests. 

"  In  September,  1653,  he  came  down  to  Emeral,  from 
whence  a  messenger  was  sent  on  purpose  to  Oxford  to 
conduct  him  thither.  Long  after,  when  it  had  pleased 
God  to  settle  him  in  that  country,  and  to  build  him  up 
into  a  family,  he  would  often  reflect  upon  his  coming  into 
it  first ;  what  a  stranger  he  then  was,  and  how  far  it  was 
from  his  thoughts  ever  to  have  made  his  home  in  those 
parts ;  and,  passing  over  the  brook  that  parts  between 
Flintshire  and  Shropshire,  would  sometimes  very  affec- 
tionately use  that  word  of  Jacob's — '  With  my  staff  I 
passed  over  this  Jordan,  and  now  I  am  become  two 
bands.* 

At  Emeral  he  prayed  in  the  family,  was  tutor  to  the 
young  gentlemen,  and  preached  once  a  day  at  Worthen- 
bury,  help  being  procured  for  the  other  part  of  the  day, 
according  to  his  request,  out  of  fear  to  take  the  whole 


THE  EEV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


69 


work  upon  him,  being  so  young.  But  it  soon  happened, 
that  one  Lord's  day  the  supply  that  was  expected  failed ; 
and  so  he  was  necessitated,  rather  than  there  should  be  a 
▼acancy,  to  preach  twice,  in  which  he  found  the  promise 
80  well  fulfilled,  '  As  thy  day  is,  so  shall  thy  strength 
be,'  that,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  his  fiiends  there, 
from  thenceforward  he  waved  looking  out  for  other  help 
than  what  came  from  above,  and  would  sometimes  speak 
of  this  as  an  instance,  that  we  do  not  know  what  we  can 
do,  till  we  liave  tried. 

"  Here  he  applied  himself  to  a  plain  and  practical  way 
of  preaching,  as  one  truly  concerned  for  the  souls  of  those 
he  spoke  to.  He  would  say  sometimes, — We  study  how 
to  speak  that  you  may  understand  us  ;  and,  I  never  think 
I  can  speak  plain  enough  when  I  am  speaking  about  souls 
and  their  salvation.  I  have  heard  him  say,  he  thought 
it  did  him  good,  that  for  the  first  half-year  of  his  being 
at  Worthenbury,  he  had  few  or  no  books  with  him,  which 
engaged  him  in  studying  sermons  to  a  closer  search  of  the 
Scripture  and  his  own  heart.  What  success  his  labours 
had  in  that  parish,  whicli,  before  he  came  to  it,  was  ac- 
counted one  of  the  most  loose  and  profane  places  in  all 
the  country,  may  be  gathered  fi-om  a  letter  of  the  Lady 
Puleston  to  him,  at  the  end  of  the  first  half-year  after 
his  coming  to  Emeral,  when  he  was  uncertain  of  his  con- 
tinuance there,  and  inclinable  to  return  and  settle  at 
Christ  Church. 

"'Dear  Mr.  Henry; 

"  '  The  indisposition  that  my  sadness  hath 
bred,  hindered  my  answering  your  last  expressions.  As 


70 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


to  begging  that  one  thing  for  you,  God  forbid,  as  Samuel 
said,  that  '  I  should  cease  to  pray.'  This  I  am  sure,  that 
having  wanted  hitherto  a  good  minister  of  the  word 
among  us,  I  have  oft  by  prayer,  and  some  tears,  above 
five  years  besought  God  for  such  a  one  as  yourself ;  which, 
having  obtained,  I  cannot  yet  despair,  seeing  he  hath 
given  us  the  good  means,  but  he  may  also  give  us  the 
good  end.  And  this  I  find,  that  your  audience  is  in- 
creased three  for  one  in  the  parish,  though  in  winter, 
more  than  formerly  in  summer  ;  and  five  for  one  out  of 
other  places.  And  I  have  neither  heard  of  their  being  in 
the  ale-house  on  our  Lord's  day,  nor  ball-playing  that 
day,  which,  before  you  came,  was  frequent,  except  the 
day  that  young  Ch.  preached.  I  think  I  can  name  four 
or  five  in  the  parish,  that  of  formal  Christians  are  becom- 
ing or  become  real.  It  is  a  good  sign,  most  are  loath  to 
part  with  you  ;  and  you  have  done  more  good  in  this  half- 
year,  than  I  have  discerned  these  eighteen  years.  But, 
however,  whether  they  will  hear,  or  whether  they  will 
forbear,  you  have  delivered  your  own  soul.' 

"  It  is  easy  to  imagine  what  an  encouragement  it  was 
to  him  thus  at  his  first  setting  out  to  see  of  the  travaU  of 
his  soul,  and  what  an  inducement  it  was  to  him  not  to 
leave  those  among  whom  God  had  thus  owned  him. 
However,  he  returned  to  Oxford  in  the  spring.  The 
Lady  Puleston  soon  after  came  to  him  thither,  with  her 
five  sons,  of  whom  she  placed  the  two  eldest  under  his 
charge  in  the  college.  In  the  following  vacation  he  went 
to  London  to  visit  his  relations ;  and  there,  in  October,  he 
received  a  letter  from  Judge  Puleston,  with  a  very  solemn 
and  aflfectionate  request,  subscribed  by  the  parishioners 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


71 


of  Worthenburj',  earnestly  desiring  his  settlement  among 
them  as  their  minister,  which  he  was  persuaded  to  com- 
ply with,  having  fixed  to  himself  that  good  rule  of  his 
Mfe.  to  follow  Providence,  and  not  to  force  it.    So,  in  the 
Iter  following  he  came  down  again,  and  settled  with 
m.    He  retained  his  scholarship  in  Christ  Church  for 
o  or  three  years,  attending  the  service  of  it  once  a  year; 
hut  disposing  of  most  of  the  profit  of  it  for  the  use  of  poor 
>cholars  there." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

OR  DIN  ATI  ON. 

A  PERIOD  of  probation,  as  we  have  seen,  had  enabled  the 
roxmg  Oxford  scholar  to  overcome  his  modest  diffidence 
md  fear,  while  it  taught  the  people  among  whom  he  la- 
>oured  to  appreciate  the  w^oi-th.and  to  desire  the  services 
if  so  faithful  and  zealous  a  servant  of  truth.  All 
bstacies  were  therefore  removed  to  his  entering  on  the 
hai:ge  of  a  parish,  and  being  ordained  to  the  sacred  office 
f  the  ministry.  "  The  tithe  of  Worthenbury  belonged  to 
lie  Emeral  family,  paying  some  rent  to  the  rector  of 
langor.  This  tithe  Judge  Puleston  was  willing  to  give, 
Lear  of  that  charge,  to  the  minister  of  Worthenbury  for 
irer.    But  such  was  the  peculiar  and  extraordinaiy 

Fdness  he  had  for  Mr.  Henry,  upon  the  experience  of 


72 


LITE  AND  TIMES  OF 


bearing  date  October  6,  1655,  between  himself  and  Mr. 
Henry,  '  in  consideration  of  his  being  pleased  to  under- 
take the  cure  of  souls,  and  to  preach  and  teach,  and  to 
perform  other  duties  of  divine  service  in  the  parish  church 
of  Worthenbury,  (so  the  deed  runs.)  to  give,  grant,  and 
confirm  for  himself  and  his  heii-s,  unto  the  said  Philip 
Henry,  the  yearly  rent  of  one  hundred  pounds,  charged 
upon  all  his  messuages,  lands,  and  tenements  in  the  se- 
veral counties  of  Flint,  Denbigh,  and  Chester,  to  be  paid 
quarterly,  until  such  times  as  the  said  Philip  Hem-y  shall 
be  promoted  or  preferred  to  some  other  spiritual  or  eccle- 
siastical living  or  preferment,  with  power  of  distress  in 
case  of  non-payment.'  A  hundred  a-year  was  more 
than  Worthenbury  tithes  were  worth  at  that  time  ;  and 
the  manner  of  the  gift  freed  the  maintenance  from  much  of 
that  loss  and  incumbrance  which  commonly  attends  the 
gathering  of  tithe. 

"About  this  period,"  says  Sir  J.  B.  Williams,  "judg- 
ing from  the  handwriting  of  the  foUovi-ing  letter,  ad- 
dressed to  a  friend  at  Oxford,  (no  doubt  Dr.  Owen,  who 
was  then  Dean  of  Christ  Church,  and  Vice-Chancellor,) 
he  received  a  summons  to  that  city,  which  led  him  to 
add  the  postscript.  But  as  the  letter  fm-nishes  an  illus- 
tration of  Mr.  Henry's  character  as  a  young  minister,  it 
may  be  here  fitly  introduced  : 

"  Most  Honoured  Sir, 

"  Being  importuned  to  improve  my  interest 
fbr  the  supply  of  a  vacant  curacy  in  these  parts,  I  make 
bold  to  acqaint  you  with  the  state  of  it,  that,  if  you  know 
of  any,  either  in  your  own  college  or  elsewhere,  that  is 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRT. 


73 


willing  to  accept  of  it,  you  would  please  to  be  instni- 
mental  in  sending  him  hither. 

The  place  is  called  Holt ;  it  is  in  Denbighshire/but  I  think 
a  man  may  throw  a  stone  out  of  it  into  Cheshire ;  it  is  dis- 
tant from  Wrexham  about  three  miles,  and  from  Chester 
five  ;  the  situation  of  it  for  convenience  is  beyond  ex- 
ception ;  there  are  but  few  such  hereabouts,  only  the 
salarj',  I  fear,  may  appear  somewhat  too  small,  to  come 
so  far  for.  It  is  as  yet,  upon  certainty,  but  <£45  per 
annum  ;  but  it  is  propable,  may  be  made,  ere  long,  £65 
paid  in  money,  and  no  deductions  out  of  it  for  taxes  ;  for 
the  place  of  his  abode,  if  he  be  a  single  man,  the  Major 
of  the  to^vn,  a  very  godly  person,  hath  promised  it  in  his 
own  house  till  sucji  time  as  care  be  taken  to  provide  for 
him  othen\ise.  For  his  qualifications.  Sir,  he  must  in 
a  judgment  of  charity,  be  one  that  fears  God,  in  regard 
he  comes  not  to  a  place  that  never  heard  of  Christ,  (as 
many  such  there  be  in  Wales,)  but  to  a  knot  of  eminent, 
discerning  Christians,  scarce  the  like  anj-where  here- 
abouts, among  whom  there  are  divers  able,  indeed,  to  be 
themselves  teachers  of  others  ;  so  that,  if  he  himself  be 
one  that  hath  no  savour  of  the  things  of  God,  he  will.be 
no  way  acceptable  or  useful  there.  He  must,  moreover, 
be  either  fitted  already  for  the  administration  of  the  or- 
dinances, or  in  a  capacity  of  being  suddenly  fitted  ;  if  he 
make  haste  hither,  he  may  have  an  opportunity  shortly 
of  being  ordained  here  in  Shropshire. 

"Sir.  craving  your  pardon  for  my  boldness  in  troubling 
you,  I  leave  the  matter  with  youi-care,  and  yourself  and 
all  your  relations  and  concernments,  with  our  ever  good 
God. — Your  servant  very  much  obliged,  P.  H, 


74 


LIFE  ANB  TIMES  OP 


"  Sir,  since  my  purpose  of  wiiting  to  you  about  tlie 
business  above  mentioned,  I  have  received  information 
from  Christ  Church,  of  a  summons  to  appear  personally 
there,  before  Michaelmas  Term  ;  Avhereupon  my  request 
to  you  is,  that  by  a  line  or  two  you  would  please  to  ac- 
quaint me,  whether  I  may  not  obtain  to  be  dispensed 
with,  in  regard  of  the  great  distance  I  am  now  at  from 
thence,  above  fourscore  miles  ;  of  the  unusual  unseason- 
ableness  of  the  ways  and  weather  ;  and,  which  is  most  of 
all,  my  very  great  indisposedness  in  point  of  health.  If 
I  may  be  excused,  I  would  entreat  you,  Sir,  to  endeavour 
it  for  me  ;  if  not,  that  you  would  please  to  send  me  word, 
whether  it  will  not  serve  if  I  come  sooner,  and  how  long 
it  will  be  required  that  I  make  my  stay  there. 

"  He  still  continued  for  some  years  in  the  Emeral  fa- 
mily, where  he  laid  out  himself  veiy  much  for  the 
spiritual  good  of  all,  even  of  the  meanest  of  the  ser- 
vants, by  catechising,  repeating  the  sermons,  and  personal 
instruction,  and  he  had  very  much  comfort  in  the  counte- 
nance and  conversation  of  the  Judge  and  his  lady.  Yet 
he  complains  sometimes  in  his  diary  of  the  snares  and 
temptations  that  he  found  in  his  way,  especially  because 
some  of  the  branches  of  the  family  were  uneasy  at  his 
being  there,  Avhich  made  him  willing  to  remove  to  a 
house  of  his  own.  When  Judge  Puleston  perceived 
this  in  the  year  1657,  out  of  his  abundant  and  con- 
tinued kindness  to  him,  he,  at  his  own  cost  and 
charges,  built  him  a  very  handsome  house  in  Worthen- 
bury,  and  settled  it  upon  him  by  a  lease,  bearing  date, 
March  6,  1657,  for  threescore  years,  if  he  should  so  long 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


76 


eontinue  minister  at  Worthenbury,  and  not  accept  of 
better  preferment. 

"  Thus  was  his  maintenance  settled  at  Worthenbury. 
In  the  year  1659.  he  was,  by  a  writing  of  Judge  Puleston's, 
oollated,  nominated,  and  presented,  to  the  church  of 
Worthenbury  ;  and  the  powers  that  then  were,  having 
so  appointed,  he  had  a  confirmation  thereof  from  the 
commissioners  for  approbation  of  public  preachers. 

"  Some  little  opposition  was  made  to  his  settlement  at 
Worthenbury  by  Mr.  Fogg,  then  rector  of  Bangor,  be- 
cause he  conceived  it  an  intrencliment  upon  his  right  to 
that  parish,  and  thought  it  might  prejudice  his  re- 
covering of  it  by  course  of  law.  I  only  mention  this  for 
the  sake  of  the  note  he  hath  upon  it  in  his  diary,  which 
is  this  :  I  do  earnestlj'-  desire  that  the  J udge  may  give 
Mr.  Fogg  all  reasonable  satisfaction,  that  there  may  be 

|j  no  appearance  of  wrong  to  him,  or  any  other,  in  this 
thing.    And  when  Mr.  Fogg  insisted  upon  it,  that  he 

i  would  have  Mr.  Henry  give  it  under  his  hand,  that  he 
desired  the  consent  of  the  said  Mr.  Fogg  to  be  minister 
of  Worthenbury,  he  yielded  to  do  it  for  peace  sake  ;  and 
from  thenceforward  there  was  an  intimate  and  entire 
friendship  between  Mr.  Fogg  and  him. 

Being  thus  settled  at  Worthenbury,  his  next  care  was 

I  touching  ordination  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  to 
which  he  would  see  his  call  very  clear,  before  he  solemnly 

!  devoted  himself  to  it.  And  though  afterwards  in  reflec- 
tion, especially  when  he  was  silenced,  it  was  some  trouble 

1  to  him,  that  he  had  so  long  deferred  to  be  ordained,  (and 
he  would  often,  from  the  consideration  of  that,  press 

|i  those  who  intended  the  ministry,  not  to  put  it  off,) 


76  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 

yet,  as  the  times  then  were,  there  was  some  reason 
for  it, 

"  The  nearest  presbytery  was  in  the  Hundred  of  Brad- 
ford Noi-th,  in  Sliropshire,  wherein  Mr.  Porter  of  Whit- 
church was  the  leading  man,  of  whom  Mr.  Baxter  gives 
so  high  a  character  in  his  Life,  and  who  was  one  of  those 
whom  he  recommended  to  the  Lord  Chancellor,  as  fit  to 
be  made  a  bishop.  This  class  was  constituted  by  ordi- 
nance of  parliament  in  April,  1647,  the  members  of  it 
then  were  the  aforesaid  Mr.  Porter,  Mr.  Boughy  of 
Hodnet,  Mr.  Houghton  of  Prees,  Mr.  Parsons  of  Wem, 
and  Mr.  John  Bisby  ;  and  afterwards  Mr.  Maiden  of 
Newport,  Mr.  Binney  of  Ightfield,  and  Mr.  Steel  of  Han- 
mer,  though  in  Flintshire,  were  taken  in  to  them,  and 
acted  with  them.  This  class  in  twelve  years'  time  pub- 
licly ordained  sixty-three  ministers.  Mr.  Henry  was 
very  desirous  to  have  been  ordained  at  Worthenbury,  in 
the  presence  of  his  people,  but  the  ministers  were  not 
willing  to  set  such  a  precedent.  That  was  one  thing 
which  caused  delay,  so  that  he  was  not  ordained  till 
September  16,  1657. 

"The  manner  of  his  ordination,"  says  his  son,  "was 
according  to  the  known  directory  of  the  Assembly  of 
Divines,  and  the  common  usage  of  the  Presbyterians  ; 
yet,  he  having  left  among  his  papers  a  particular  account 
of  that  solemnity,  and  some  of  the  workings  of  his  soul 
towards  God  in  it ;  it  may  be  of  some  use,  both  for  in- 
struction and  quickening  to  ministers,  and  for  the  infor- 
mation of  such  as  are  perhaps  wholly  strangers  to  such  a 
thing,  to  give  some  account  of  the  transaction. 

**  He  made  addresses  to  the  presbytery,  in  order  to  his  or- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


77 


dination,  July  6,  at  Frees,  when  he  submitted  to  trial.  In- 
quiry was  made,  in  the  first  place,  concerning  his  experience 
of  the  work  of  grace  in  his  heaii;  ;  in  answer  to  which  he 
gave  a  reason  of  thehope  that  was  in  him  with  meekness  and 
fear  ;  that  the  Spirit  of  grace  had  been  dealing  with  him 
when  he  was  young,  and  he  hoped,  had  discovered  to  him 
Ibis  need  of  Christ,  and  had  bowed  his  will  in  some  mea- 
sure to  close  with  him  upon  his  own  terms,  &c.  His 
skill  in  the  original  languages  of  the  Scripture  was  then 
tried  ;  and  he  read  and  construed  two  verses  in  the 
Hebrew  Bible,  and  two  in  the  Greek  Testament.  He  was 
then  examined  in  logic  and  natural  philosophy  ;  next  in 
divinity,  what  authoi-slie  had  read,  and  what  knowledge 
he  had  touching  the  mediation  of  Christ,  &c.  His  skill 
in  the  Scripture  was  tried,  by  propounding  to  him  a  diffi- 
cult text  to  give  his  sense  of ;  a  case  of  conscience  was 
also  put  to  him  to  be  resolved,  and  an  inquiry  made  into 
his  acquaintance  with  church  history.  Lastly,  a  question 
was  given  him  to  write  a  thesis  upon  before  next 
meeting,  which  was  this  :  Aii  providentia  Divina  exten- 
dat  se  ad  omnia  1  On  this  question  he  exhibited  his 
thesis,  August  3,  and  defended  it.  Several  of  the  minis- 
ters opposed,  and  Mr.  Porter  moderated.  He  then  pro- 
duced two  certificates,  which  he  left  with  the  register  of 
the  class,  one  from  Oxford,  subscribed  by  Dr.  "Wilkinson, 
Br.  Langley,  &c.,  the  other  from  the  neighbouring 
ministers,  Mr.  Steel,  Mr.  Fogg,  &c.,  both  testifying  to  his 
conversation,  &c.  'The  Lord  forgive  me,' saith  he,  in 
his  diary,  upon  this,  '  that  it  hath  not  been  more  exem- 
plary, as  it  ought,  for  piety  and  industry.  Amen,  Lord 
in  Christ.'    The  day  for  ordination  was  appointed  to  be 


78 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


September  16th,  at  Frees,  of  which  notice  was  given  at 
Worthenbury  by  a  paper  read  in  the  church,  and  after- 
wards afl&xed  to  the  church  door  the  Lord's  day  before, 
signifying  also,  '  that  if  any  one  could  produce  any  j  ust 
exceptions  against  the  doctrine  or  life  of  the  said  Mr. 
Henrj',  or  any  sufficient  reason  why  he  might  not  be  or- 
dained, they  should  certify  the  same  to  the  elassis,  or  the 
scribe,  and  it  should  be  heard  and  considered.' 

"  On  the  day  of  ordination,  there  was  a  very  great 
assembly  gatliered  together.  j>Iy.  Poller  began  the  work 
of  the  day  with  prayer,  then  Mr.  Parsons  preached  on 
1  Timothy  i.  12  :  '  I  thank  Christ  Jesus,  who  hath  enabled 
me,  for  that  he  counted  me  faithful,  putting  me  into  the 
ministry.'  Putting  men  into  the  ministiy  is  the  work  of 
Jesus  Christ.  After  sermon,  Mr.  Parsons,  according  to  the 
usual  method,  required  of  him  a  confession  of  his  faith." 

In  the  life  of  Henry  by  his  son,  Ms  confession  of  faith 
is  given  at  full  length,  with  minute  marginal  references 
to  the  Scriptures  on  which  each  article  of  faith  is  founded. 
This  made,  he  was  next  called  upon  to  answer  the 
questions  appointed  in  the  Directory  for  Ordination. 

"  When  this  was  done,  Mr.  Parsons  prayed  ;  and  in 
prayer  he  and  the  rest  of  the  Presbyters,  laid  their  liands 
upon  him,  with  words  to  this  purpose,  '  "Whom  we  do 
thus  in  thy  name  set  apart  to  the  work  and  office  of  the 
ministry.'  There  were  five  more,  after  the  like  previous 
examinations  and  trials,  professions  and  promises,  at  the 
same  time  set  apart  to  the  ministry. 

"  Then  Mr.  Maiden,  of  Newport,  closed  with  an  ex- 
hortation, directed  to  the  newly  ordained  ministers,  in 
which,  saith  Mr.  Henry  in  his  diary,  this  word  went  near 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


79 


my  heart. — As  the  nurse  puts  the  meat  first  into  her  own 
mouth  and  chews  it,  and  then  feeds  the  child  with  it,  so 
should  ministers  do  by  the  word,  preach  it  over  before- 
liand  to  their  own  hearts ;  it  loses  none  of  the  virtue 
thereby,  but  rather,  probably,  gains.  As  that  milk 
nourisheth  most  wliich  comes  warm  from  the  breast,  so 
that  sermon  which  comes  warm  from  a  waim  heart. 
Lord,  quicken  me  to  do  thy  will  in  this  thing. 

The  classis  gave  him,  and  the  rest,  instruments  in 
parchment,  certifying  this,  which  it  may  satisfy  the  curi- 
osity of  some  to  read  the  form  of. 

"  '  Whereas,  Mr.  Philip  Henry  of  Worthenbury,  in  the 
County  of  FHnt,  Master  of  Arts,  hath  addressed  himself 
unto  us,  authorized  by  an  ordinance  of  both  Houses  of 
Parliament,  of  the  29tli  of  August,  1G48,  for  the  ordina- 
tion of  ministers  desu-ing  to  be  ordained  a  Presbyter,  for 
that  he  is  chosen  and  appointed  for  the  work  of  the  min- 
istry at  Worthenbury,  in  the  County  of  Flint,  as  by  a 
certificate  now  remaining  with  us,  touching  that  his  elec- 
tion and  appointment,  appeareth.  And  he  having  like- 
wise exhibited  a  sufficient  testimonial  of  his  diligence  and 
proficiency  in  his  studies,  and  unblamableness  of  his  life 
and  conversation,  he  hath  been  examined  according  to  the 
rules  for  examination  in  the  said  ordinance  expressed  ; 
and  thereupon  approved,  there  being  no  just  exception 
made,  nor  put  in,  against  his  ordination  and  admission. 
These  may  therefore  testify  to  all  whom  it  may  concern, 
that  upon  the  16th  day  of  September,  1657,  we  have  pro- 
ceeded solemnly  to  set  him  apart  for  the  office  of  a  Pres- 
byter, and  work  of  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  by  laying 
on  of  our  hands  with  fasting  and  prayer.    By  vii-tue 


80 


/ 

LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


whereof  we  do  declare  liim  to  be  a  lawful  and  sufficiently 
authorized  minister  of  Jesus  Christ.  And  having  good 
evidence  of  his  lawful  and  fair  calling,  not  only  to  the 
work  of  the  ministry,  but  to  the  exercise  thereof  at  the 
chapel  of  Worthenbury,  in  the  County  of  Flint,  we  do 
hereby  send  him  thither,  and  actually  admit  him  to  the 
said  charge,  to  perform  all  the  offices  and  duties  of  a 
faithful  pastor  there  ;  exhorting  the  people,  in  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ,  willingly  to  receive  and  and  acknowledge 
him  as  the  minister  of  Christ,  and  to  maintain  and  en- 
courage him  in  the  execution  of  his  office,  that  he  may 
be  able  to  give  up  such  an  account  to  Christ  of  their  obe- 
dience to  his  ministry,  as  may  be  to  his  joy,  and  their 
everlasting  comfort.  In  witness  whereof,  we  the  Pres- 
byters of  the  Fourth  Class,  in  the  County  of  Salop,  com- 
monly called  Bradford-North  Class,  have  hereunto  set  our 
hands,  this  16th  day  of  September,  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  God,  1657.' 

"  I  have  heard  it  said,  by  those  who  were  present  at 
this  solemnity,  that  Mr.  Henry  did  in  his  countenance, 
carriage,  and  expression,  discover  such  an  extraordinary 
seriousness  and  gravity,  and  such  deep  impressions  made 
upon  his  spirit,  as  greatly  affected  the  auditory,  and  even 
struck  an  awe  upon  them. 

Two  years  after,  on  the  occasion  of  his  being  present 
at  an  ordination  at  Whitchurch,  he  thus  writes  in  his 
diary  : — "  This  day  my  ordination  covenants  were  in  a 
special  manner  renewed,  as  to  diligence  in  reading, 
prayer,  meditation,  faithfulness  in  preaching,  admoni- 
tion, catechising,  sacraments,  zeal  against  error  and  pro- 
faneness,  care  to  preserve  and  promote  the  unity  and 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


81 


purity  of  the  church,  notwithstanding  opposition  and 
persecution,  though  to  death.  Lord,  thou  hast  filled  my 
hands  with  work,  fill  my  heart  with  wisdom  and  gi-ace, 
that  I  may  discharge  my  duty  to  thy  glory,  and  my  own 
salvation,  and  the  salvation  of  those  that  hear  me.  Amen. 

"  Let  us  now  see  how  he  applied  himself  to  his  work 
at  Worthenbury.  The  sphere  was  narrow,  too  narrow 
for  such  a  burning  and  shining  light.  There  were  but 
forty-one  communicants  in  that  parish,  when  he  first  set 
up  the  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Supper  ;  and  they  were 
never  doubled.  Yet  he  had  such  low  thoughts  of  him- 
self, that  he  not  only  never  sought  for  a  larger  sphere, 
but  would  never  hearken  to  any  overtures  of  that  kind 
made  to  him.  And  withal,  he  had  such  liigh  thoughts  of 
his  work,  and  the  worth  of  souls,  that  he  laid  out  himself 
with  as  much  diligence  and  vigour  here,  as  if  he  had  the 
oversight  of  the  largest  and  most  considerable  parish  in 
the  country. 

I"  The  greater  number  of  the  parishioners  were  poor 
tenants  and  labouring  husbandmen ;  but  the  souls  of  such, 
he  used  to  say,  are  as  precious  as  the  souls  of  the  rich, 
and  to  be  looked  after  accordingly.  His  prayer  for  them 
was, — '  Lord  despise  not  the  day  of  small  things  in  this 
ij  place,  where  there  is  some  willingness,  but  much  weak- 
ness.' And  thus  he  writes  upon  the  Judge's  settHng  a 
handsome  maintenance  upon  him, — '  Lord,  thou  knovvest 
I  seek  not  theirs  but  them.' 

"He  was  in  labours  more  abundant  to  win  souls.  Be- 
sides preaching  he  expounded  the  Scriptures  in  order ; 
catechised,  and  explained  the  catechism.  At  first  he  took 
into  the  nmnber  of  his  catechumens  some  that  were  adult, 

p 


82 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


who,  he  found,  wanted  instruction  ;  and  when  he  had 
taken  what  pains  he  thought  needful  with  them,  he  dis- 
missed them  from  further  attendance,  with  commenda- 
tion of  their  proficiency,  and  counsel  '  to  hold  fast  the 
form  of  sound  words  ; '  to  be  watchful  against  the  sins  of 
their  age,  and  to  apply  themselves  to  the  ordinance  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  and  make  ready  for  it ;  afterwards  he 
catecliised  none  above  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  of 
age. 

"  He  set  up  a  monthly  lecture  there  of  two  sermon?, 
one  he  himself  preached,  and  the  other  his  friend  Mr. 
Ambrose  Lewis,  of  Wrexham,  for  some  years.  He  also 
kept  up  a  monthly  conference,  in  private,  from  house  to 
house,  in  which  he  met  with  the  more  knowing  and  judi- 
cious of  the  parish  ;  and  they  discoursed  familiarly  to- 
gether of  the  things  of  God,  to  their  mutual  edification, 
according  to  the  example  of  the  apostles,  who,  though 
they  had  the  liberty  of  public  places,  3^  et  '  taught  also 
from  house  to  house.'  That  which  induced  him  to  set 
and  keep  up  this  exercise  as  long  as  he  durst,  which  was 
till  August,  1660,  was,  that  by  this  means  he  came  better 
to  understand  the  state  of  his  flock,  and  so  knew  the  bet- 
ter how  to  preach  to  them,  and  pray  for  them,  and  tliey 
to  pray  one  for  another.  If  they  were  in  doubt  about 
anything  relating  to  their  souls,  that  was  an  opportunity 
of  getting  satisfaction.  It  was  likewise  a  means  of  in- 
creasing knowledge,  and  love,  and  other  gi-aces  ;  and 
thus  it  abounded  to  a  good  account. 

"  He  was  very  industrious  in  visiting  the  sick,  instruct- 
ing them,  and  praying  with  them  ;  and  in  this  he  would 
say,  he  aimed  at  the  good,  not  only  of  those  that  were 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


83 


sick,  but  also  of  their  friends  and  relations  that  were 
about  them. 

"  He  preached  funeral  sermons  for  all  that  were  buried 
there,  rich  and  poor,  old  or  young,  or  little  children  ;  for 
he  looked  upon  it  as  an  opportunity  of  doing  good.  He 
called  it, — '  setting  in  the  plough  of  the  word,  when  the 
providence  had  softened  and  prepared  the  ground.'  He 
never  took  money  for  any  ministerial  performance,  besides 
his  stated  salary,  for  which  he  thought  himself  obliged 
to  do  his  whole  duty  as  a  minister. 

"  When  he  first  set  up  the  ordinance  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  there,  he  did  it  with  very  great  solemnity.  After 
he  had  endeavoured  to  instruct  them  in  his  public  preach- 
ing, in  the  nature  of  that  ordinance,  he  discoursed  per- 
sonally Avitli  all  that  gave  up  their  names  to  the  Lord  in 
!it,  of  their  knowledge,  experience,  and  conversation,  ob- 
iliged  them  to  observe  the  law  of  Christ  touching  brotherly 
jadmonition  in  case  of  scandal,  and  gave  notice  to  the 
(congregation  who  they  were  that  were  admitted  ;  adding 
this:  '  Concerning  these,  and  myself,  I  have  two  things 
to  say  :    1.  As  to  what  is  past,  we  have  sinned.    If  we 

hould  sa}'-,  we  have  not,  we  should  deceive  ourselves,  and 
truth  were  not  in  us;  and  yet  this  withal  we  can  say 
,and  have  said  it,  some  of  us  with  tears, — We  are  grieved 
that  we  have  sinned.  2.  For  the  time  to  come  we  are  re- 
vod  by  God's  grace  to  walk  in  new  obedience  ;  and  yet 
jiccing  we  are  not  angels,  but  men  and  women,  compassed 
ibout  with  infirmities  and  temptations,  it  is  possible  we 
may  fall ;  but  if  we  do,  it  is  our  declared  resolution  to 
•submit  to  admonition  and  censure,  according  to  the  mle 

)f  the  gospel.'    And  all  along  he  took  care  so  to  manage 


84 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


his  admissions  to  that  ordinance,  as  that  the  weak  might 
not  be  discouraged,  and  yet  the  ordinance  might  not  bo 
profaned. 

"  These  were  but  the  first  instances  of  his  skilfulness 
in  dispensing  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  He 
declined  the  private  administration  of  the  Lord's  Supper 
to  sick  persons,  as  judging  it  not  consonant  to  the  rule 
and  intention  of  the  ordinance.  He  very  rarely,  if  ever, 
baptized  in  private  ;  but  would  have  children  brought  to 
the  solemn  assembly  upon  the  Lord's  day,  that  the  par- 
ent's engagement  might  have  the  more  witnesses  to  it, 
and  the  child  the  more  prayers  put  up  for  it,  and  that 
the  congregation  might  be  edified.  Yet  he  would  say, 
there  was  some  inconvenience  in  it  too,  unless  people 
would  agree  to  put  off  the  feasting  part  of  the  solemnity 
to  some  other  time,  which  he  very  much  persuaded  his 
friends  to  do ;  observing  that  Abraham  made  a  great  feast 
the  same  day  that  '  Isaac  was  weaned,'  not  the  same  day 
that  he  was  circumcised. 

"  His  carriage  towards  the  people  of  his  parish  was 
very  exemplary ;  condescending  to  the  meanest,  and  con- 
versing familiarly  with  them  :  bearing  with  the  infirmi- 
ties of  the  weak,  and  becoming  all  things  to  all  men." 


THE  RET.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


85 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CHARACTER  OF  HIS  PREACHING. 

The  people  of  Worthcnbury  were  few  in  number,  and 
very  poor.  Notwithstanding  the  great  popularity  of 
Philip  Henry  as  a  preacher,  and  the  influence  his  min- 
istry had  on  the  whole  parish  and  neighbourhood,  we 
have  seen  that  he  never  numbered  eighty  communicants. 
But  he  was  the  fi-iend  and  counsellor  of  his  people  in  every 
trial  and  diflSculty  ;  and  he  grudged  no  labour  that  pro- 
mised to  render  his  services  more  acceptable  among  them. 
The  moderate  limits  of  his  parochial  charge,  and  the  ab- 
sence of  that  wealthy  and  influential  class  of  parishioners 
whose  hospitalities  and  intrusions  —  however  guarded 

t gainst, — will  encroach  somewhat  on  the  leisure  of  the 
lost  conscientious  and  self-denying  minister,  no  doubt, 
jhad  a  share  in  forming  and  developing  the  peculiar  char- 
iicter  of  the  old  divine.    He  had  a  strong  relish  for  the 
[luaint  antithetical  style  that  characterized  the  religious 
^  |vriters  of  that  age,  while  he  seems  to  have  felt  an  untir- 
I  ijng  aelight  in  the  composition  of  sermons,  for  which  the 
\  :imits  of  his  charge  secured  him  frequent  leisure.  With 
ill  the  delight  with  which  a  Ben  Johnson  constructed 
he  curious  allegories  and  impersonations  of  a  Court  Mask, 
V  an  Inigo  J  ones  heaped  together  in  picturesque  com- 
ination  the  details  of  Italian,  Gothic,  and  Grecian  art, 
*hiiip  Henrj'  delighted  to  arrange  the  truths  of  religion, 


86 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


and  the  discussions  of  theological  investigation,  in  elabo- 
rate and  ingenious  antithesis,  set  off  with  all  the  laboured 
ornaments  of  alliteration  and  punning  play  upon  words. 
One  detects  in  his  well-studied  sermons  all  the  skill  of  an 
artist  employed  in  the  artificial  arrangement  of  their 
quaint  details.  Pungent  argument,  profound  divinity, 
and  the  keenest  controversial  theology,  are  set,  as  it 
were,  in  elaborately  chased  frame-Avork  of  the  most 
curious  and  fantastic  design.  Few  have  surpassed  Philip 
Henry  in  this  old-fashioned,  and  now  obsolete  art.  With 
what  diligent  pertinacity  does  he  hunt  a  simile  through 
every  conceivable  foi'm,  ringing  the  changes  on  it  with 
unweai-ying  delight,  while  he  illustrates  meanwhile  the 
most  solemn  truths  by  all  this  curious  complication  of 
thought.  Does  he  speak  of  Christ  as  a  door  ? — as  in  the 
twenty-first  of  his  "  What  Christ  is  made  to  Believers,  in 
Forty  real  Benefits  V — heads  divide  themselves,  and  sub- 
divide, till  the  eye  searches  for  the  order  of  Its  si:vth- 
lys  and  seventhh/s  of  the  third  or  fourth  doctrinal  heads, 
while  these  again  with  help  of  bracketed  numbers,  reach, 
by  another  and  more  minute  anatomising,  a  third  seventh- 
ly or  eighthly  of  orderly  classification.  I.  A  door  is  of 
a  fourfold  use — to  let  out,  and  let  in ;  to  shut  out,  and  shut 
in.  1.  A  door  is  to  let  those  out  of  the  house  that  are  in 
it ;  but  (1.)  There  is  the  prison-house  of  a  sinful  condi- 
tion,— we  are  all  by  nature  shut  up  under  lock  and  key 
there.  (2.)  There  is  the  house  of  bondage  under  the 
ceremonial  law.  (3.)  There  is  the  house  of  correction 
under  afflicting  providence.  (4.)  There  is  the  house  of 
the  grave.  2.  A  door  is  to  let  those  in  that  are  without. 
(1.)  Christ  is  the  door  of  the  pasture.    (2.)  He  is  the 


> 

THE  REV.  PHILIP  UENRY. 


87 


door  of  the  presence-cliamber.  (3.)  He  is  tlie  door  into 
tliG  treasury  oi-  store-house.  (4.)  He  is  the  door  into  the 
school-house,  &c.,  on  to  (8.)  He  is  the  door  into  glory 
and  happiness.  He  is  the  door  into  heaven.  Thus  does 
the  divine,  with  curious  ingenuity,  exhaust  his  subject. 
Christ  is  a  living  door, — a  low  door, — a  strait  door, — a 
strong  door, — an  open  door, — the  only  dooii. 

With  still  more  fanciful  trimness  of  artificiality  he 
furnishes  the  Christian  with  an  Alphabet  of  Promises. 
"  What  are  the  Promises  ?  They  are  A.  Articles  of 
the  covenant  ;  B.  Breasts  of  consolation  ;  C.  Christian's 
charter;"  and  so  on,  down  to  "  W.  Wells  of  salvation; 
X.  'Xceeding  great  and  precious  ;  Y.  Yea  and  amen  in 
Christ  Jesus;  Z.  Zion's  peculiar!''  Yet  with  all  this 
truth  was  never  sacrificed  to  style.  It  was  the  mode  of 
dressing  reason  at  the  period  to  suit  it  to  the  palates  of 
the  listeners.  But  the  truth  was  there,  dressed  up  in- 
deed in  a  fashion  strange  enough  to  us,  but  neither  con- 
;.led  nor  disguised.  Take  for  example  his  comparison 
:  Christ  to  a  piece  of  penmanship.  "  He  is  a  plain,  easy 
example.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  difference  in  writing 
between  one  hand  and  another.  Some  hands  are  so  full 
of  cuts  and  flourishes,  that  it  is  hard  for  a  learner  to  learn 
to  wTite  after  them.  Others  again  so  plain,  and  easy,  and 
free  from  such  appurtenances,  that  there  is  little  diffi- 
culty in  copying  them. — Now  such  a  hand  was  that  that 
Jesiis  Christ  wrote  ;  I  mean,  such  a  copy,  such  an  ex- 
ample. The  condition  he  put  on  was  a  mean,  plain  con- 
dition ;  a  servant ;  not  a  knight,  or  a  lord,  or  a  prince, 
Now  as  his  condition  was,  such  his  example  was.  He  set 
a  copy  for  poor  people  to  write  after  ;  the  meanest  can- 


88 


» 

LIFE  A>'D  TDIE3  OF 


not  say,  it  is  out  of  my  reach.  Leara  of  me — What  to  do  ? 
to  make  the  world,  to  raise  the  dead,  rebuke  the  winds 
and  waves  ?  2s  o  :  to  be  meek  and  lowly  ;  as  here,  to 
wash  one  another's  feet :  not  to  build  churches,  or  erect 
hospitals  ;  not  to  fast  forty  days  and  forty  nights,  not  to 
go  barefoot  on  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  not  to  wallow 
naked  in  the  snow,  as  Saint  Fi-ancis.''  &c. 

No  simile  escapes  him.  He  thus  calls  into  requisition 
the  cherished  superstition  of  the  period,  to  challenge 
which  would  then  have  been  to  incur  the  suspicion  of 
disloyalty.  "  Consider  the  heaUng  that  is  with  Christ, 
the  Sun  of  righteousness,  is  the  alone  healing.  There  is 
no  other  that  can  cure  thee.  Whether  it  be.tme  that 
the  king's  evil  can  be  cured  by  the  King's  touch  only, 
is  more  than  I  know  ;  but  I  am  sure  the  evil  of  sin  can 
be  cured  no  other  way  than  by  the  touch  of  the  King  of 
kings.    All  other  physic  and  physicians  are  of  no  value." 

One  more  example  we  shall  quote  at  greater  length, 
in  illustration  of  this  curious  and  homely  mode  of  ex- 
hibiting divine  truth,  so  characteristic  of  the  age  of  our 
best  Puritan  divines.  His  text  is,  "  Put  ye  on  the  Loi-d 
Jesus  Christ and  he  accordingly  compares  Christ  to  a 
suit  of  cloth esj  exhausting,  vdih  ingenious  subtlety  ever}- 
idea  which  his  "robe  of  righteousness  "  suggests  : 

Whcit  kind  of  garment  is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ?  It 
is  a  great  matter,  especially  wiih.  some,  what  kind  of 
clothes  we  wear,  that  they  be  tight  and  fashionable,  and 
according  to  our  rank  and  quality  ;  rather  above  it  than 
under  it,  or  below  it,  or  short  of  it  ;  and  most  commonly 
those  that  are  most  curious  and  concerned  about  the 
clothing  of  their  bodies  are  least  curious  and  concerned 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


89 


what  clothes  their  souls  have  ;  it  is  to  them  no  matter 
what  rags,  what  filthy  rags  they  appear  in,  both  before 
God  and  man. 

"  Behold,  I  bring  yon  tidings  this  day  of  brave  clothes, 
wliich  may  be  yours,  if  you  will — each  of  you — for  the 
putting  on.  And  those  are  the  Lord  Jesas  Christ  ;  his 
merit  and  righteousness  to  justify  you  ;  his  Spirit  and 
grace  to  sanctify  you.  What  say  you  ?  Will  you  accept 
of  them,  will  you" have  them,  put  them  on,  wear  them  ? 

"  Tell  us,  fii-st,  what  are  their  properties,  that  should 
commend  them  to  us  ? 

"  In  general,  it  is  called  the  best  robe.  Best  indeed  ; 
no  other  is  to  he  compared  with  it.  Brown  bread  and 
the  gospel  are  good  fare  ;  rags  and  Christ's  righteousness 
are  good  clothing.  It  is  first  in  worth  and  excellency, 
and  first  in  order  of  time — though  not  as  to  our  pereons, 
yet  as  to  our  nature  in  Adam. 

"  1 .  The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  a  costly  garment ;  the  dearest 
and  most  costly  garment  that  ever  was.  We  may  judge 
of  its  excellency  by  its  price.  Some  people  are  extra- 
ordinarily profuse  about  their  clothes,  and  are  cautioned 
against  it.  Lo,  here  is  a  costly  robe  indeed  :  not  to  us 
that  must  wear  it,  (it  costs  us  nothing  but  the  accepting 
and  putting  it  on,)  but  to  him  that  made  and  prepared 
it  ;  it  cost  him  dear.  Ere  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  could 
be  a  suit  of  clothes  for  thy  soul — to  justify,  sanctify,  save 
thee,  he  must  be  made  a  man.  And  so  he  was.  He 
must  die  the  death  of  the  cross.  And  so  he  did.  Wo 
read  of  Joseph's  brethren  dipping  their  brother's  coat  in 
a  goat's  blood,  and  sending  it  to  their  father  ;  but 
our  Joseph  dipped  the  coat  that  was  to  be  for  us  in 


90 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


his  own  blood.  And  doth  not  this  commend  it  to  you  1 
He  clothed  himself  with  the  rags  of  our  nature,  that  he 
might  clothe  us  with  the  robe  of  his  grace  ;  nay,  more 
than  that — he  was  made  sin  for  us,  a  curse  for  us,  '  that 
we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him.' 

"  2.  He  is  a  comely  garment.  There  are  some  persons 
whose  clothes,  in  the  eyes  of  sober  men,  are  very  un- 
comely ;  disfiguring,  rather  than  adorning  the  body  ; 
discovering,  rather  than  hiding  their  ^harae.  But  here 
is  a  garment  comely  indeed,  beautiful,  and  lovely,  and 
glorious  ;  a  garment  that  makes  the  soul  that  hath  it  on 
amiable  towards  Grod  :  he  is  pleased  with  it,  and  accepts 
of  it. 

"3.  He  is  a  large  garment.  The  righteousness  of 
Christ  for  justification  is  so.  He  is  able  to  save  to  the 
uttermost.  There  is  in  him  merit  enough  to  satisfy  for 
all  thy  sins,  to  pay  all  thy  debts.  He  has  incense 
enough  to  perfume  all  thy  services.  Wliat  is  said  of  the 
bed,  Isa.  xxviii.  20,  is  true  of  all  the  garments — of  all 
our  own  righteousness — they  are  too  short  and  too  nar- 
row ;  thy  nakedness  appears  through  them. 

"  4.  He  is  a  lasting  garment,  nay,  everlasting.  The 
Israelites  had  clothes  that  lasted  forty  years,  and  did  not 
wax  old, — that  was  a  great  while,  Deut.  viii.  4.  But 
here  is  a  garment  which  lasts  for  ever," — and  so  the 
ingenious  divine  proceeds  through  farther  divisions  and 
subdivisions  of  like  character. 

With  all  this  we  find  none  of  that  false  ingenuity 
which  sacrifices  the  means  to  the  end.  Notwithstand- 
ing his  quaint  similes,  and  curiously  involved  divisions, 
we  never  find  in  Philip  Henry's  writings  anything  like 


I  THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  91 

the  laborious  hiding  of  a  later  period,  when  this  peculiar 
vein  of  style  and  thought  degenerated  in  the  hands  of 
inferior  wi-iters  into  mere  verbosity,  and  shallow  pedan- 
trj'.    With  Henry  it  was  the  peculiarity  of  his  age, 
characterized  by  his  own  devout  eaniestness  and  zeal, 
and  his  own  intellectual  vigour.     An  eminent  living 
NNTiter — the  Rev.  James  Hamilton — himself  skilled  in 
:he  use  of  comparisons  and  analogies,  derived  from  the 
stores  of  a  highly  cultivated  mind,  and  an  exuberant 
,,  thus  remarks  of  Philip  Henry  in  the  life  of  his 
— "  Even  his  common  conversation  shaped  itself 
balanced  sentences  and  proverbial  maxims.     '  If  I 
lot  go  to  the  house  of  God,  I  will  go  to  the  God  of 
:he  house.'     '  Forced  absence  from  God's  ordinances, 
nd  forced  presence  with  wicked  people,  is  a  grievous 
^  n  to  a  gracious  soul.'    '  Solitariness  is  no  sign  of 
anctity.    Pest-houses  stand  alone,  and  yet  are  full  of 
nfectious  diseases.'    '  There  are  two  things  we  should 
e^^  are  of — That  we  never  be  ashamed  of  the  gospel,  and 
/  we  may  never  be  a  shame  to  it.'     There  are  three 
:s  which  if  Christians  do,  they  will  find  themselves 
ken  : — If  they  look  for  that  in  themselves  which  is 
had  in  another,  viz.  righteousness ;  If  they  look 
lat  in  the  law  which  is  to  be  had  only  in  the  gospel, 
rtercy;  If  they  look  for  that  on  earth  wliich  is  to 
id  only  in  heaven,  viz.  perfection.''    In  defiance  of 
.  rn  criticism,  we  own  a  certain  kindliness  for  this 
.  iLLshioned  art  ;  it  has  a  Hebrew  look  ;  it  reminds  us 
'  the  alphabetic  psalms,  and  the  '  six  things,  yea  seven,' 
lomon.    And  we  believe  that  it  has  a  deep  root  in 
io*e — the  love  of  alliteration  and  antithesis  being. 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


in  another  form,  the  love  of  rhyme  and  metre.  We 
never  see  in  an  ancient  garden  a  box-tree  peacock,  or  a 
hemisphere  of  holly,  but  we  feel  a  certain  pleasure  ;  we 
cannot  help  admiring  the  obvious  industry,  and  we  feel 
that  they  must  have  been  a  genial  and  gay-hearted  people 
who  taught  their  evergi-eens  to  ramp  like  lions,  or  flap 
their  wings  like  crowing  cocks.  And,  more  especially  we 
feel,  that  but  for  this  grotesque  beginning  we  might 
never  have  arrived  at  the  landscape  gardens  of  later 
times.  Though  they  were  the  mere  memorials  of  what 
amused  our  fathers,  we  could  tolerate  these  conceits  in 
cypress  and  yew,  but  when  we  recollect  that  they  were 
the  first  attempts  at  the  picturesque,  and  the  commence- 
ment of  modem  elegance,  we  view  them  with  a  deeper 
interest.  Doubtless  this  alliterative  and  antistrophic 
style  was  eventually  overdone,  and  like  the  Dutch  gar- 
dener, who  locked  up  his  apprentice  in  the  one  summer- 
house  because  he  had  secured  a  thief  in  the  other,  the 
later  Puritans  sacrificed  everything  to  verbal  jingles  and 
acrostic  symmetry.  But  Philip  Henry  was  a  scholar, 
and  a  man  of  vigorous  intellect,  and,  in  the  sense  most 
signal,  a  man  of  God.  Translated  into  the  tamest 
language,  his  sayings  would  still  be  weighty  ;  but  when 
we  reflect  that  to  his  peasant  hearers  their  original  terse- 
ness answered  all  the  purpose  of  an  artificial  memory,  we 
not  only  forgive  but  admire  it.  Many  a  good  thought 
has  perished  because  it  was  not  portable,  and  many  a 
good  sermon  is  forgotten  because  it  is  not  memorable  ; 
but  like  seeds  with  wings,  the  sayings  of  Philip  Henry 
have  floated  far  and  near,  and  like  seeds  with  hooked 
prickles,  his  sermons  stuck  to  his  most  careless  hearers. 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRT. 


93 


His  tenacious  words  took  root,  and  it  was  his  happiness 
to  see  not  only  scriptural  intelligence,  but  fervent  and 
consistent  piety  spreading  amongst  his  parishioners." 

Philip  Henry  soon  won  the  favour  of  both  minister 
and  people  all  around  his  little  parish  ;  and  the  genial 
kindliness  of  his  heart  no  less  than  his  great  learning 
and  talents  endeared  him  to  all  he  became  thus  known 
to.  He  was  frequently  called  on  to  occupy  the  pulpits 
of  neighbouring  ministers,  nor  was  he  less  ready  to  avail 
himself  of  opportunities  of  hearing  others,  such  as  the 
frequent  preaching  of  week-day  lectures  there  afforded. 
Of  his  attendance  on  these  he  has  preserved  a  faithful 
record  in  his  diary,  and  we  detect  in  some  of  the  notes 
he  records  of  the  sermons  of  favourite  preachers  among 
his  contemporaries,  the  same  studied  and  elaborate  an- 
tithesis which  he  knew  himself  how  well  to  handle.  It 
is  indeed  the  thoughts  of  others  recoined  in  his  o\xti  mint, 
and  it  may  be  that  they  owe  their  peculiar  stamp  to  his 
own  die.  He  thus  remarks  in  his  notes  : — "  1657.  Oct. 
5.  At  Welsh  Hampton,  fi'om  Col.  iii.  8.  The  doctrine 
was — It  is  the  gi-eat  duty  of  Christians  to  put  off  anger. 
It  unfits  for  duty.  A  littfe  jogging  puts  a  clock  or  watch 
out  of  frame,  so  a  little  passion  the  heart.  A  man  can- 
not wrestle  with  God,  and  wrangle  with  his  neighbour 
at  the  same  time.  Short  sins  often  cost  us  long  and  sad 
sorrows.  An  angry  man  is  like  one  in  a  crowd  w^ho  hath 
a  sore  boU,  every  one  thrusts  him.  and  troubles  him. 
'  With  the  froward  thou  wilt  show  thyself  froward  ;' — a 
dreadful  Scripture  to  a  peevish  froward  man.  Those  who 
are  too  merry  when  pleased,  are  commonly  too  angry 
when  crossed.    Blessed  Lord,  subdue  this  lust  in  my 


94 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


heart !  I  am  very  weak  there.  Turn  the  stream  of  my 
anger  against  self  and  sin." 

His  son  thus  refers  to  his  intercourse  ^Yith  his  minis- 
terial brethren,  and  to  the  docility  with  which  he  sought 
to  glean  from  every  opportunity  fresh  nutrition  ;  and 
like  the  bee,  to  pass  no  blossom  untried,  which,  though 
the  meanest  weed,  might  perchance  add  to  his  store  one 
drop  of  honey.  "  He  had  not  been  long  at  Worthenbury 
but  he  began  to  be  taken  notice  of  by  the  neighbouring 
ministers,  as  likely  to  be  a  considerable  man.  Though 
his  extraordinary  modesty  and  humility,  which  even  in 
his  youth  he  was  remarkable  for,  made  him  sit  down  with 
silence  in  the  lowest  room,  and  to  say,  as  Elihu,  '  Days 
shall  speak  ;'  yet  his  eminent  gifts  and  graces  could  not 
long  be  hid  ;  the  ointment  of  the  right  hand  will  betray 
itself,  and  a  person  of  his  merits  could  not  but  meet  with 
those  quickly  who  said,  'Friend,  go  up  higher.'  He 
was  often  called  upon  to  preach  the  week-day  lectures, 
which  were  set  up  plentifully,  and  diligently  attended 
upon  in  those  parts,  and  his  labours  were  generally  very 
acceptable  and  successful.  The  voxpopuli  fastened  upon 
him  the  epithet  of  Heavenly  Henry,  by  which  title  he 
was  commonly  knoAvn  all  the  country  over  ;  and  his 
advice  was  sought  for  by  many  neighbouring  ministers 
and  Christians,  for  he  was  one  of  those  that  found  favour 
and  good  understanding  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man. 
He  was  noted  at  his  first  setting  out,  (as  I  have  been 
told  by  one  who  was  then  intimately  acquainted  with 
him,  and  with  his  character  and  conversation,)  for  three 
things  :  1.  Great  piety  and  devotion,  and  a  mighty  sa- 
vour of  godliness  in  all  his  converse.    2.  Great  industry 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


95 


in  the  pursuit  of  useful  knowledge  ;  he  was  particularly 
observed  to  be  very  inquisitive  when  he  was  among  the 
aged  and  intelligent,  hearing  them,  and  asking  them 
questions  ;  a  good  example  to  young  men,  especially 
young  ministers.  3.  Great  self-denial,  self-diffiJence, 
and  self-abasement ;  this  eminent  humility  put  a  lustre 
upon  all  his  other  gi-aces.  This  character  of  him  reminds 
me  of  a  passage  I  have  sometimes  heard  him  tell,  as  a 
check  to  the  forwardness  and  confidence  of  young  men  : 
Once  at  a  meeting  of  ministers,  a  question  of  moment 
was  started,  to  be  debated  among  them  ;  upon  the  first 
proposal  of  it,  a  confident  young  man  shoots  his  bolt* 
presently.  '  Truly,'  saith  he,  '  I  hold  it  so.'  '  You  hold. 
Sir,'  replied  a  gi-ave  minister ;  'it  becomes  you  to  hold 
your  peace.' 

Besides  his  frequent  preaching  of  lectures  in  his 
neighbourhood,  he  was  a  constant  and  diligent  attendant 
upon  those  within  his  reach,  as  a  hearer  ;  and  not  only 
wrote  the  sermons  he  heard,  but  afterwards  recorded  in 
his  diary,  what  in  each  sermon  reached  his  heart,  affected 
liim,  and  did  him  good  ;  adding  some  pious  ejaculations, 
the  breathings  of  his  heart  when  he  meditated  upon, 
and  prayed  over  these  sermons. 

"  What  a  wonderful  degree  of  piety  and  humility  does 
it  evince,  for  one  of  so  great  acquaintance  with  the  things 
of  God  to  write, — This  I  learned  out  of  such  a  sermon,  and 
This  was  the  truth  I  made  to  myself  out  of  another 
sermon  !  And,  indeed,  something  out  of  every  sermon. 
His  diligent  improvement  of  the  v/ord  preached  contri- 
buted, more  than  any  one  thing,  as  a  means  to  his  great 

*  An  allusion  to  the  old  proverb,"  A  rash  man's  bolt  is  soon  shot.'' 


96 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


attainments  in  knowledge  and  gi-ace.  He  would  say 
sometimes;  that  one  great  use  of  week-day  lectures  was, 
that  it  gave  ministers  an  opportunity  of  hearing  one 
another  preach,  by  which  they  are  likely  to  profit,  when 
they  hear  not  as  masters  but  as  scholars  ;  not  as  censors, 
but  as  learners. 

"  His  great  friend,  and  companion,  and  fellow-labourtr 
in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  was  the  worthy  Mr.  Richard 
Steel,  minister  of  Hanmer,  one  of  the  next  parishes  to 
Worthenbury,  whose  praise  is  in  the  churches  of  Christ, 
for  his  excellent  and\iseful  treatises,  '  The  Husbandman's 
Calling,'  '  An  Antidote  against  Distractions,'  and  several 
others.  Ho  was  Mr.  Henry's  alter  idem,  the  man  of  his 
counsel ;  with  him  he  joined  frequently  at  Hanmer  and 
elsewhere  in  Christian  conference,  and  in  days  of  humili- 
ation and  prayer ;  besides  their  meetings  with  other 
ministers  at  public  lectures  ;  after  which  it  was  usual  for 
them  to  spend  some  time  among  themselves  in  set  dis- 
putations in  Latin.  This  was  the  work  that  in  those 
days  was  carried  on  among  ministers,  who  made  it  their 
business,  as  iron  sharpens  iron,  to  provoke  one  another 
to  love  and  good  works. 

"  In  the  beginning  of  his  days  he  often  laboured  under 
bodily  distempers  ;  it  was  feared  that  he  was  in  a  con- 
sumption ;  and  some  blamed  him  for  taking  so  much 
pains  in  his  ministerial  work,  suggesting  to  him,  Master, 
spare  thyself.  One  of  his  friends  told  him,  he  lighted 
up  all  his  pound  of  candles  together,  and  that  he  could 
not  hold  out  long  at  that  rate  ;  and  wished  him  to  be  a 
better  husband  of  his  strength.  But  he  often  reflected 
upon  it  with  comfort  afterwards,  tliat  he  was  not  influ- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


97 


enced  by  such  suggestions.  The  more  we  do,  the  more 
we  may  do,  so  he  would  sometimes  say,  in  the  service  of 
God.  When  his  work  Avas  sometimes  more  than  ordi- 
nary, and  bore  hard  upon  liim,  lie  thus  appealed  to  God ; 
— Thou  knowest,  Lord,  how  well  contented  I  am  to  spend 
and  be  spent  in  thy  service  ;  and  if  the  outward  man  de- 
cay, 0  let  the  inward  man  be  renewed  !  Upon  the  re- 
turns of  his  indisposition,  he  expresseth  a  great  concern 
how  to  get  spiritual  good  by  it — to  come  out  of  the  fur- 
nace and  leave  some  dross  behind  ;  for  it  is  a  great  loss 
to  lose  an  affliction.  He  mentions  it  as  that  which  he 
hoped  did  him  good,  that  he  was  ready  to  look  upon 
every  return  of  distemper  as  a  summons  to  the  grave  ; 
thus  he  learned  to  die  daily.  I  find,  saith  he,  my  earthly 
tabernacle  tottering,  and  when  it  is  taken  down,. I  shall 
have  a  building  in  heaven  that  shall  never  fail.  Blessed 
be  God  the  Father,  and  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the 
good  Spirit  of  grace.  Even  so,  Amen.  This  was  both 
his  strength  and  his  song,  under  his  bodily  infirmities." 


CHAPTER  X. 

HIS  PARISH  DUTIES. 

Op  the  labours  of  Philip  Henrj'-  in  his  study,  the  pre- 
ceding chapter  will  convey  some  idea  to  the  reader.  In 
that  he  grudged  no  exertion  and  spared  no  pains.  Never- 
theless, his  labours  among  his  people  were  no  less  dili- 
gent.   '  In  season  and  out  of  season,'  he  was  to  be  found 

Q 


98 


LIFS  AND  TIMES  OF 


amongst  them,  "  reproving,  rebuking,  exhorting,  with  all 
long-suffering  and  patience  ;"  ever  mingling  the  gentle- 
ness of  a  parent  with  the  sternness  of  pastoral  severity 
in  rebuking  open  sins.  "  He  was,"  says  his  son,  "  ex- 
ceeding tender  of  giving  offence,  or  occasion  of  grief,  to 
anybody,  minding  liimself  in  his  diary  upon  such  occa- 
sions, that  the  wisdom  that  is  from  above  is  '  pure,  and 
peaceable,  and  gentle,'  &c.  Yet  he  plainly  and  faithfully 
reproved  what  he  saw  amiss  in  any,  and  would  not  suffer 
sin  upon  them  ;  mourning  also  for  that  which  he  could 
not  mend.  There  were  some  untractable  people  in  the 
parish,  who  sometimes  caused  grief  to  him,  and  exer- 
cised his  boldness  and  zeal  in  reproving.  Once  hearing 
of  a  meiTy  meeting  at  an  alehouse,  on  a  Saturday  night, 
he  went  himself  and  broke  it  up,  and  scattered  them. 
At  another  time,  he  publicly  witnessed  against  a  frolic 
of  some  vain  people,  that  on  a  Saturday  night  came  to 
the  church  with  a  fiddler  before  them,  and  dressed  it  up 
with  flowers  and  garlands,  making  it,  as  he  told  them, 
more  like  a  play-house  ;  and  was  this  their  preparation 
for  the  Lord's  day,  and  the  duties  of  it  ?  &c.  He  minded 
them  of  the  words  of  Ecclesiastes  :  '  Rejoice,  0  young  man, 

in  thy  youth,  but  know  thou'  . 

"  Many  out  of  the  neighbouring  parishes  attended  upon 
his  ministry,  and  some  came  from  far,  though  sometimes 
he  signified  his  dislike  of  their  so  doing,  so  far  was  he 
from  glorying  in  it.  But  they  who  had  '  spiritual  senses 
exercised  to  discern  things  that  differ,'  would  attend  upon 
that  ministrj^  which  they  found  to  be  most  edifying." 

Of  his  unbounded  charity,  both  in  acts  of  benevolence 
and  in  Christian  forbearance,  numerous  instances  are  pre- 


THE  RET.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


99 


sensed.  His  whole  life  indeed  was  characterized  l.y  a  con- 
sistent display  of  Christian  charity  and  love.  In  his  in- 
tercourse with  Christians,  all  differences  disappeared  from 
his  mind,  if  he  saw  evidence  that  they  were  one  with 
him  as  brethren  in  Christ.  He  seems,  indeed,  to  have 
proved  a  blessing  to  his  own  parish,  and  a  bond  of  union 
among  all  -s'^tliin  the  circle  of  his  influence. 

"  While  he  was  at  Worthenbury  he  constantly  laid  by 
the  tenth  of  his  income  for  the  poor,  which  he  carefully 
and  faithfully  disposed  of,  in  the  liberal  things  which  he 
devised,  especially  for  the  teaching  of  poor  children.  And 
he  would  recommend  it  as  a  good  rule  to  lay  by  for 
charity  in  some  proportion,  according  as  the  circum- 
stances are,  and  then  it  will  be  the  easier  to  lay  out  in 
chanty.  We  shall  be  the  more  apt  to  seek  for  opportunities 
of  doing  good  w^hen  we  have  money  lying  by  us,  of  which 
we  have  said, — This  is  not  our  own,  but  the  poor's.  To 
encourage  himself  and  others  to  works  of  charity,  he 
would  say, — He  is  no  fool  who  parts  with  that  which  he 
cannot  keep,  when  he  is  sure  to  be  recompensed  with 
that  which  he  cannot  lose. 

"  In  the  year  1658,  the  ministers  of  that  neighbourhood 
began  to  enlarge  their  correspondence  with  the  ministers 
of  North  Wales.  They  had  several  meetings  at  Ruthin  and 
other  places  that  year,  for  the  settling  of  a  coiTespondence, 
and  the  promoting  of  unity  and  love,  and  goodunderstand- 
ingamongthemselves,  by  entering  into  an  Association,  like 
those  of  Worcestershire  and  Cumberland,  tow^hich,astheir 
pattern,  they  did  refer  themselves,  those  two  having  been 
published.  They  appointed  particular  Associations  ;  and, 
notwithstanding  the  differences  of  apprehension  that 


100 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


were  among  them,  (some  being  in  their  judgments  epis- 
copal, others  congregational,  and  others  classical  or  pres- 
byterian,)  they  agreed  to  lay  aside  the  thoughts  of  mat- 
ters of  variance,  and  to  give  to  each  other  the  right  hand 
of  fellowship  ;  that  with  one  shoulder,  and  with  one 
consent  they  might  study  each  in  his  place,  to  pro- 
mote the  common  interests  of  Christ's  kingdojn,  and 
the  common  salvation  of  precious  souls.  He  observed  that 
this  year,  after  the  death  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  there  was 
generally,  throughout  the  nation,  a  great  change  in  the 
temper  of  God's  people,  and  a  mighty  tendency  towards 
peace  and  unity,  as  if  they  were,  by  consent,  weary  of 
their  long  clasliings  ;  which,  in  his  diary,  he  expresseth 
his  gi-eat  rejoicing  in,  and  his  hopes  that  the  time  was  at 
hand,  when  '  Judali  should  no  longer  vex  Ephraim,  nor 
Ephraim  envj'  Judah,  neither  should  they  learn  war  any 
more.'  And  though  these  hopes  were  soon  disappointed  by 
the  change  of  the  scene,  yet  he  would  often  speak  of  the 
experience  of  that  and  the  following  year  in  those  parts, 
as  a  specimen  of  what  may  yet  be  expected,  and,  there- 
fore, in  faith  pi-ayed  for,  when  the  Spirit  shall  be  poured 
out  upon  us  from  on  high.  From  his  experience  he  like- 
wise gathered  this  observation, — that  it  is  not  so  much 
om-  difference  of  opinion  that  does  us  the  mischief,  (for 
w^e  may  as  soon  expect  all  the  clocks  in  the  town  to 
strike  together,  as  to  see  all  good  people  of  a  mind  in 
everything  on  this  side  heaven  ;)  but  the  mismanage- 
ment of  that  difference. 

In  the  Association  of  ministers  it  was  referred 
to  Mr.  Henry  to  draw  up  that  part  of  their  agreement 
which  concerned  the  worship  of  God,  which  task  he  per- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


101 


formed  to  their  satisfaction.  His  preface  t(^  what  he 
drew  up  begins  thus  : — '  Though  the  main  of  our  desii-es 
and  endeavours  be  after  unity  in  the  greater  things  of 
God  ;  yet  we  judge  uniformity  in  the  circumstances  of 
worship,  a  thing  not  to  be  altogether  neglected  by  us, 
not  only  in  regard  of  that  influence  which  external  visible 
order  hath  upon  the  beauty  and  comeliness  of  the 
churches  of  Christ,  but  also  as  it  hath  a  direct  tendency 
to  the  strengthening  of  our  hands  in  ministerial  services, 
and  withal  to  the  removing  of  those  prejudices  which 
many  people  have  conceived,  even  against  religion  and 
woi-ship  itself.  We  bless  God,  from  our  very  souls,  for 
that  whereunto  we  have  already  attained  ;  and  yet  we 
hope  some  further  thing  may  be  done,  in  reference  to 
our  closer  walking  by  the  same  rule,  and  minding  the 
same  things.  The  word  of  God  is  the  rule  which  we  de- 
sire and  resolve  to  walk  by  in  the  administration  of  or- 
dinances ;  and  for  those  things  wherein  the  word  is  silent, 
we  think  we  may,  and  ought  to,  have  recourse  to  Chris- 
tian prudence,  and  the  practice  of  the  reformed  churches, 
agreeing  with  the  general  rules  of  the  word  :  and,  there- 
fore, we  have  had,  as  we  think  we  ought,  in  our  present 
agreement,  a  special  eye  to  the  Directory,'  &c. 

"  These  agreements  of  theu*s  were  the  more  likely  to  be 
for  good,  that  here,  as  in  Worcestershire,  when  they  were 
in  agitation,  the  ministers  set  apart  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer  among  themselves,  to  bewail  ministerial  neglects, 
and  to  seek  God  for  direction  and  success  in  their  minis- 
terial work.  They  met  sometimes  for  this  purpose  at 
Mr.  Henry's  house  at  Worthenbury. 
"  One  remark  may  not  improperly  be  inserted  here  :  once 


,  102 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


at  a  meeting  of  the  ministers,  Philip  Henry  being  desired 
to  subscribe  a  certificate  concerning  one  whom  he  had 
not  sufficient  acquaintance  with  ;  he  refused,  giving  this 
reason — that  he  preferred  the  peace  of  his  conscience 
before  the  friendship  of  all  the  men  in  the  world." 

Lady  Puleston,  a  woman  of  devout  piety,  and  an  ear- 
nest zeal  for  the  cause  of  truth  and  godliness,  which 
manifested  itself  by  every  practical  effort  within  the 
sphere  of  her  influence,  was  the  friend  who  had  forwarded 
Henry  in  every  good  work  he  entered  on.  It  was  his 
misfortune,  however,  very  early  to  lose  this  excellent 
and  tried  friend.  She  died  on  29th  of  September,  1658, 
on  which  occasion  Philip  Henry  remarks,  "  She  was  the 
best  friend  I  had  on  earth,  but  my  Friend  in  heaven  is  still 
where  he  was,  and  he  will  never  leave  me  nor  forsake 
me."  It  was  a  change  in  many  respects  influencing  his 
future  prospects  as  well  as  his  present  comfort ;  though 
he  still  enjoyed  the  fi-iendship  and  favour  of  Judge  Pules- 
ton. But  tlijs  was  also  ver}''  speedily  brought  to  a  close. 
His  son  remarks,  in  refeiring  to  the  death  of  Lady  Pules- 
ton :  "  He  preached  her  funeral  sermon  from  Isaiah  iii. 
last  verse  ;  '  Cease  from  man,  whose  breath  is  in  his 
nostrils.'  He  noted  this  expression  of  hers  not  long 
before  she  died  :  '  My  soul  leansio  Jesus  Christ ;  lean  to 
me,  sweet  Saviour.'  About  this  time  he  writes, — A  dark 
cloud  is  over  my  concernments  in  this  family,  but  my 
desire  is,  that,  whatever  becomes  of  me  and  my  interest, 
the  interest  of  Christ  may  still  be  kept  on  foot  in  this 
place.  Amen,  so  be  it.  But  he  adds  soon  after,  that  saying 
of  Athanasius,  which  he  was  used  often  to  quote  and  take 
comfort  from :  '  It  is  a  little  cloud  and  will  soon  blow  over.' 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


108 


"  About  a  year  after,  September  5, 1659,  Ji^ge  Pules- 
ton  died,  and  all  Mr.  Henrj^'s  interest  in  the  Emeral 
family  was  buried  in  his  grave.  He  preached  the  J udge's 
funeral  sermon,  from  Nehemiah  xiii.  14.  '  Wipe  not  out 
my  good  deeds  that  I  have  done  for  the  house  of  my  God, 
and  for  the  offices  thereof  the  design  of  which  sermon 
was  not  to  applaud  his  deceased  friend.  I  find  not  a 
word  in  the  sennon  to  that  purpose.  But  he  took  occa- 
sion from  the  instance  of  so  great  a  benefactor  to  the  min- 
istry as  the  Judge  was,  to  show  that  deeds  done  for  the 
house  of  God,  and  the  offices  thereof,  are  good  deeds  : 
and  to  press  people,  according  as  their  ability  and  oppor- 
tunity was,  to  follow  his  example. 

A  passage  I  find  in  that  semion  which  ought 
to  be  recorded  ;  that  it  had  been  for  several  years  the 
practice  of  a  worthy  gentleman  in  the  neighbouring 
county,  in  renewing  his  leases,  instead  of  making  it  a 
condition  that  his  tenants  should  keep  a  hawk  or  a  dog 
for  him,  to  oblige  them  to  keep  a  Bible  in  their  own 
houses  for  themselves,  and  to  bring  up  their  children 
to  loam  to  read,  and  to  be  catechised.  This,  saith  he, 
would  be  no  charge  to  you,  and  it  might  oblige  them 
to  do  that  which  otherwise  they  would  neglect.  — 
Some  v/ished,  saith  he,  in  his  diary,  that  I  had  chosen 
some  other  subject  for  that  sermon,  but  I  approved  my- 
self to  God,  and  if  I  please  men  I  am  not  the  sei-vant  of 
Christ. 

The  personal  affronts  he  received  from  some  of  the 
branches  of  the  Emeral  family  at  that  tune,  need  not  be 
mentioned,  though  the  exemplary  patience  with  which 
he  bore  them,  ought  not  to  be  forgotten. 


104 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


"  In  March,  1658-9,  he  was  very  much  solicited  to  leave 
Worthenbury,  and  to  accept  of  the  Vicarage  of  Wrexham, 
which  was  a  place  he  had  botli  a  great  interest  in,  and  a 
great  kindness  for,  but  he  could  not  see  his  call  clear  to  leave 
Worthenbury,  so  he  declined  it.  X^e  same  year  he  had 
an  offer  made  him  of  a  considerable  living  near  London ; 
but  he  was  not  of  them  that  are  given  to  change,  nor  did 
he  consult  with  flesh  and  blood,  nor  seek  great  things  to 
himself." 

Philip  Henry,  like  most  other  zealous  parish  ministers 
in  England  at  that  period,  had  some  diflSculty  in  dealing 
with  the  more  violent  enthusiasts  and  fanatics  whom  the 
excitement  of  that  period  of  change  called  into  being. 
The  intolerant  restraints  under  which  the  people  groaned, 
while  Laud  was  the  supreme  dictator  of  liberty  of  con- 
science, checked  every  expression  of  opinion,  however  ex- 
cellent or  harmless.  It  was  only  the  natural  consequence 
of  this  unjust  restraint  that  men  were  the  more  inclined 
to  adopt  extreme  opinions,  and  when  freedom  of  thought 
and  free  expression  of  opinion  had  been  won,  Fifth-mon- 
axchy  men,  Levellers,  Muggeltonians,  and  many  other 
extreme  sects,  advocated  .the  most  extravagant  tenets, 
generally  with  very  little  tolerance  for  those  of  others. 
Among  these  extravagant  enthusiasts  must  unquestion- 
ably be  ranked  the  early  Quakers,  a  sect  resembling  in 
little  else  than  name,  the  societies  so  designated  in  our 
own  day.  In  reference  to  their  proceedings,  Henry's 
Biographer  remarks  :  "That  year  [165ft]  he  had  some 
disturbance  from  the  Quakers,  who  were  set  on  by  some 
others  wishing  ill  to  his  ministry.  They  challenged  him 
to  dispute  with  them  ;  and  that  which  he  was  to  prove 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


105 


against  them,  was,  that  the  God  he  worshipped  was  not 
an  idol ;  that  John  Baddely  (a  blacksmith  in  Malpas,  and 
the  ringleader  of  the  Quakers  in  that  country)  was  not 
infallible,  nor  without  sin  ;  that  baptism  with  water  and 
the  Lord's  supper  are  gospel-ordinances  ;  that  the  Scrip- 
tures are  the  word  of  God  ;  and  that  Jesus  Christ  will 
come  to  judge  the  world  at  the  last  day.  But  he  never 
had  any  public  disputes  with  them,  nor  so  much  distur- 
bance from  them  in  public  worship,  as  some  other  min- 
isters had  elsewhere  about  that  time." 

Other  matters  of  a  more  pleasing  nature,  which  occu- 
pied the  thoughts  of  Henrj^  tliis  year,  and  led  to  an  im- 
I   portant  change  in  his  Ufe,  are  detailed  in  the  next  chap- 
!   ter;  but,  meanwhile,  the  following  account  which  Mathew 
I    Henry  gives  of  his  father's  ministerial  labours,  and  es- 
I    pecially  of  the  preparation  of  his  sermons,  cannot  fail  to 
interest  the  reader.   "  There  are  two  things  further  which 
I  tliink  it  may  be  of  use  to  give  some  account  of.    1.  Of 
the  com-se  of  his  ministry  at  Woi-thenburj"  ;  and,  2.  of 
the  state  of  his  soul,  and  the  communion  he  had  with  God, 
in  those  years. 

"  As  to  the  subj  ects  he  preached  upon,  he  did  not  use 
to  dwell  long  upon  a  text. — Better  one.  sermon  upon  many 
texts,  viz.,  many  scriptures  opened  and  applied,  than 
many  sermons  upon  one  text.  To  that  purpose  he  would 
sometimes  speak. 

"  He  used  to  preach  in  a  fixed  method,  and  link  his 
subjects  in  a  sort  of  chain.  He  adapted  his  method  and 
style  to  the  capacity  of  his  hearers,  fetching  his  simili- 
tudes for  illustration  from  those  things  which  were  familiar 
to  them.    He  did  not  shoot  the  aiTOw  of  the  word  over 


106 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


their  heads  in  high  notions,  or  the  flourishes  of  affected 
rhetoric^  nor  under  their  feet,  by  blunt  and  homely  expres- 
sions, as  many  do  under  pretence  of  plainness,  but  to  their 
hearts,  in  close  and  lively  appKcations.  His  deUvery  was 
very  graceful  and  agreeable,  far  from  being  either  noisy  and 
precipitate  on  the  one  hand,  or  dull  and  slow  on  the  other. 

"  He  wrote  the  notes  of  his  sermons  pretty  large  for  the 
most  part,  and  always  very  legible.  But  even  when  he 
had  put  his  last  hand  to  them,  he  commonly  left  many 
imperfect  hints,  which  gave  room  for  enlargement  in 
preaching,  wherein  he  had  a  great  felicity.  And  he  would 
often  advise  ministers  not  to  tie  themselves  too  strictly 
to  their  notes,  but,  having  well  digested  the  matter  before, 
to  allow  themselves  a  liberty  of  expression,  such  as  a 
man's  affections,  if  they  be  well  raised,  will  be  apt  to  fur- 
nish him  with. 

"  He  kept  his  sermon-notes  in  very  neat  and  exact 
order ;  sermons  in  course,  according  to  the  order  of  the 
subject ;  and  occasional  sermons  according  to  the  scrip- 
ture-order of  the  texts  ;  so  that  he  could  readily  turn  to 
any  of  them.  And  yet,  though  afterwards  he  was  re- 
moved to  a  place  far  enough  dista,nt  from  any  of  that 
auditory,  yet,  though  some  have  desired  it,  he  seldom 
preached  any  of  those  hundreds  of  sermons  which  he  had 
preached  at  Worthenbmy;  no,  not  when  he  preached 
never  so  privately,  but  to  the  last  he  studied  new  sermons, 
and  \^Tote  them  as  elaborately  as  ever  ;  for  he  thought  a 
sermon  best  preached  when  it  was  newly  meditated.  Nay, 
if  sometimes  he  had  occasion  to  preach  upon  the  same  text, 
yet  he  would  make  and  write  the  sennon  anew ;  and  he 
never  offered  that  to  God  which  cost  him  nothing. 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


107 


"  When  he  went  to  Oxford  and  preached  there  before 
the  university  in  Christ  Church,  as  he  did  several  times, 
his  labours  were  not  only  verj^  acceptable,  but  successful 
too  ;  particularly  one  sermon  v>-hich  he  preached  there, 
on  Proverbs  xiv.  9.  '  Fools  make  a  mock  at  sin ; '  for 
which  sermon  a  young  Master  of  Arts  came  to  his  cham- 
ber aftersvards  to  return  him  thanks,  and  to  acknowledge 
the  good  impressions  which  divine  grace,  by  that  sermon, 
had  made  upon  his  soul,  which  he  hoped  he  should  never 
forget. 

In  his  diary  he  frequently  records  the  state  of  his 
'.ind  in  studying  and  preaching.    Sometimes  blessing 
1  for  signal  help  vouchsafed,  and  owning  him  the  Lord 
1  of  all  his  enlai-gements  ;  at  other  times,  complaining 
^Teat  deadness  and  straitness. — It  is  a  wonder,  saith 
that  I  can  speak  of  eternal  things  with  so  Httle  sense 
he  reality  of  them.    Lord,  strengthen  that  which  re- 
'ns,  which  is  ready  to  die  !    And  he  once  writes  thus, 
:i  a  studying  day, — i  forgot  explicitly  and  expressly, 
-en  I  began  to  crave  help  from  God,  and  the  chariot- 
n  heels  drove  accordingly.    Lord,  forgive  my  omissioiLS, 
J  keep  me  in  the  way  of  duty." 


108 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


CHAPTER  XI. 
MARRIAGE. 

When  Philip  Henry  settled  at  Worthenbury,  in  a 
house  of  his  own,  which  the  generous  care  of  his  kind 
patron,  Judge  Puleston,  had  provided  for  him,  he  found 
the  necessity  for  that  domestic  oversight  which  he  had 
hitherto  had  provided  for  him  under  other  roofs.  At 
Emeral,  under  the  pious  care  of  the  excellent  Lady 
Puleston,  he  had  enjoyed  every  comfort  and  attention 
that  friendship  and  esteem  could  suggest.  When  he  left 
his  situation  in  her  household,  to  enter  on  his  duties  as 
minister  of  the  parish,  the  Judge  had  a  suitable  residence 
erected  for  his  exclusive  use  ;  and  to  this  he  removed  in 
February,  1658-9,  with  one  of  his  sisters  as  his  house- 
keeper. 

He  had  not  been  long  settled  there,  however,  when  he 
was  attracted  by  the  virtues  of  Katharine,  the  sole 
daughter  and  heir  of  Mr.  Daniel  Matthews  of  Broad 
Oak  ;  and  soon  after  he  sought  her  in  marriage.  There 
were  some  difficulties  interposed  by  her  father  ;  who  had 
probably  looked  forward  to  a  higher  match  for  his 
daughter,  and  demurred  at  her  giving  her  hand  to  a 
parish  minister,  whose  means  were  no  less  moderate  than 
his  ambition.  The  young  lady,  however,  had  no  such 
objections,  and  so,  notwithstanding  the  father's  opposi- 
tion, it  proved  after  a  time  no  insurmountable  difficulty 
to  overrule  the  reasons  urged  for  its  prevention.    "  Pro- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


109 


vidence,"  says  his  son,  "  having  brought  him  into  a  house 
of  his  own,  soon  after  provided  him  a  help-meet  for  him. 
After  long  agitation,  and  some  discouragement  and  op- 
position from  the  father,  he  married  Katharine,  the  only- 
daughter  and  heir  of  Mr.  Daniel  Matthews,  of  Broad 
Oak,  in  the  toA^NTiship  of  Iscoyd,  in  Flintshire,  but  in  the 
parish  of  Malpas,  which  is  in  Cheshire,  and  about  two 
miles  distant  from  Whitchurch,  a  considerable  market- 
towTi  in  Shropshire.  Mr.  Matthews  was  a  gentleman  of 
a  very  competent  estate  :  such  an  one  as  King  James 
the  First  used  to  say  was  the  happiest  lot  of  all  others, 
which  set  a  man  below  the  office  of  a  justice  of  peace, 
and  above  that  of  a  petty  constable.  This  was  his  only 
child :  very  fair  and  honourable  overtures  had  been 
made  for  her  disposal  ;  but  it  pleased  God  so  to  order 
events,  and  to  overrule  the  spirits  of  those  concerned, 
tliat  she  was  reserved  to  be  a  blessing  to  this  good  man, 
in  things  pertaining  both  to  life  and  godliness. 

"  The  following  anecdote  has  been  handed  down  in  the 
family.  After  Mr.  Philip  Henry,  who  came  to  Worthen- 
bury  a  stranger,  had  been  in  the  country  for  some  time, 
his  attachment  to  Miss  Matthews,  afterwards  liis  wife, 
became  manifest  ;  and  it  was  mutual.  Among  the  other 
objections  urged  by  her  friends  against  the  connexion 
was  this, — that,  although  Mr.  Heniy  was  a  gentleman, 
and  a  scholar,  and  an  excellent  preacher,  he  was  quite  a 
stmnger,  and  they  did  not  even  know  w^here  he  came 
from.  'True,'  replied  Miss  Matthews,  'but  I  know 
where  he  is  going,  and  I  should  like  to  go  with  him.' 

"  The  opposition  of  Mr.  Matthews  to  the  marriage, 
and  the  imposing  of  inequitable  terms,  with  a  view  of 


110 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


breaking  off  the  acquaintance,  was,  for  a  considerable 
time,  a  severe  trial  to  the  faith  and  patience  of  Mr. 
Henry.  In  this  affair  the  influence  of  the  holy  religion 
he  professed  was  exceedingly  conspicuous  ;  nor  will  the 
reader  disapprove  of  a  momentary  interruption  of  the 
narrative  by  the  introduction  of  the  following  letter  from 
him,  which  will  explain,  in  some  degi-ee,  the  difficulties 
he  had  to  encounter  : — 

"  To  Mr.  Matthews. 

"  Sir, — I  have  received,  by  my  ft-iend,  your  answer  to 
what  I  proposed  in  my  last,  concerning  your  lands  at 
Brunnington,  with  which  I  am  satisfied.  I  understand 
from  him,  also,  that  for  your  other  lands  which  are  at 
Broad  Oak,  your  demand  is  <£800,  which  sum  being,  as  I 
am  informed,  according  to  the  present  rate  of  lands,  near 
their  full  value,  makes  it,  in  effect,  no  portion,  but  a 
purchase.  I  do  therefore  hope,  Sir,  it  is  but  your  de- 
mand, and  that  room  is  left  for  some  abatement,  so  far, 
at  least,  that  there  may  be  equality,  and,  withal,  that  pro- 
vision may  be  made  for  my  just  security  in  case  your 
daughter  should  die  without  issue.  Concerning  both 
which  I  shall  desire  the  interposure  of  no  other  arbitra- 
tor than  your  own  self,  to  whom  I  would  refer  it.  I 
have  had  many  occasions  for  laying  out  monies  tliis 
last  year  in  furnishing  my  house  and  other  ways  ;  never- 
theless I  have  <£200,  or  thereabouts,  which  I  am  willing 
to  disburse  to  you  for  the  present,  and  shall  give  3-ou 
sufficient  bond  for  more  to  be  paid  within  reasonable 
time,  on  the  considerations  before  mentioned.  Or,  if  you 
please  to  give  your  consent  that  I  may  match  with  your 


THE  BEV.  PHILIP  HENRT. 


daughter.  I  shall  be  as  willing  to  dispose  of  those  monies 
elsewhere  to  her  use,  and  you  may  do  with  your  own  as 
you  think  good.  I  assure  you,  Sir,  though  you  will  not 
believe  me,  the  Lord  knows,  I  eye  it  not,  having  learned 
in  that  estate  wherein  I  am  to  be  content.  Sir,  I  be- 
seech you,  have  some  respect  in  this  matter,  to  honest, 
innocent  affections  ;  though  not  to  mine,  who  am  but  a 
stranger,  yet,  however,  to  her's  who  is  your  own  flesh;  and 
be  pleased  to  consider,  the  same  God  who  bids  your 
child  obey  you,  bids  you  also,  in  the  same  breath,  not  to 
provoke  her,  lest  she  be  discouraged.  I  should  much 
rejoice  if  I  might  hear  that  you  are  inclined,  yet,  at  last, 
to  entertain  more  charitable,  favourable  thoughts  con- 
ceraing  me,  who  do  really  desire  to  approve  myself, 
Sir, 

Your  servant  in  the  Lord, 

"  Philip  Henry. 

Worthenburj.  Feb.  16,  1659. 

The  next  letter  of  his.  addressed  to  Mr.  Matthews, 
still  more  strongly  indicates  the  strong  prejudice  of  the 
latter,  and  the  difliculty  of  reconciling  him  to  Philip 
Heniy  as  his  son-in-law  : 

"  Sir, — It  hath  been  all  along  my  desire  and  care, 
as  far  as  I  have  knov^Ti  myself,  to  walk  in  the  highway 
in  this  affair  concerning  your  daughter.  I  can  truly  say 
your  dislike  of  it  hitherto,  hath  been  one  of  the  greatest 
afiiictions  that  hath  befallen  me  ;  as,  on  the  other  hand, 
your  approbation  would  be  one  of  my  greatest  outward 
mercies.  And  I  do  bless  the  Lord,  who  hath  been 
pleased  thus  far  to  incline  your  heart  towards  me,  hoping 


112 


UFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


he  will  jBinish  what  he  hath  begun.  It  falls  out,  Sir,  that 
I  am  engaged  upon  the  service  of  my  calling  to-morrow 
in  the  work  of  the  Lord  ;  but,  upon  Wednesday  morning, 
at  nine  o'clock,  God  willing,  I  shall  not  fail  to  be  at  your 
tenant's  house,  if  your  occasions  will  permit  your  pre- 
sence there,  at  that  time,  or  when  else  you  shall  ap- 
point. This,  with  my  service  to  yourself,  and  love  un- 
feigned to  your  daughter,  is  all  at  present  from  him  who 
is,  and  desires  to  be  thought  to  be, 
«  Sir, 

"  Yours  to  serve  you, 

Philip  Henry." 

Worthenbnry,  Feb.  27, 1659 

The  Articles  preliminary  to  the  marriage  bear  date 
March  20,  1659,  and  stipulate  for  its  solemnization  ^  at 
or  before  the  first  day  of  May  next  ensuing.'  Circum- 
stances, however,  arose  which  seemed  to  render  procras- 
tination expedient,  and  a  fresh  difficulty  having  pre- 
sented itself  to  the  mind  of  Mr.  Matthews,  it  is,  in  a  let- 
ter dated  Worth enbury,  June  13,  1659,  thus  mildly 
alluded  to.  "  Far  be  it  from  me  to  blame  your  due  pa- 
ternal care  ;  but  truly.  Sir,  my  condition  being  such  as, 
blessed  be  God,  it  is,  and  my  desires  and  expectations 
being  proportioned  accordingly,  and  no  way  exceeding,  I 
am  apt  to  think  it  might  be  an  easy  matter  to  remove 
that  obstruction.  For  my  own  part  I  am  willing  to  re- 
fer it  to  yourself.  You  may  deal  in  it  as  you  see  cause, 
and  I  shall  acquiesce  in  your  pleasure, — only  favour  me 
in  her  towards  whom  my  affections  are,  which  is  the 
great  request  and  sole  ambition,  in  this  present  address, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


113 


of,  Sir,  your  friend  and  servant  in  the  Lord,  Philip 
Henry." 

It  was  not  until  the  26i;h  of  April,  1660,  that  their 
marriage  was  at  length  accomplished,  and  Mr.  Hamilton 
has  well  remarked  in  his  life  of  his  son  :  "  Seldom  has  a 
scene  of  purer  domestic  happiness  been  witnessed  than  the 
love  of  God  and  one  another  created  there."  In  his  own 
quaint  waj^,  the  old  divine  tells  that  after  living  many 
years  with  her  he  was  never  reconciled  to  her, — because 
there  never  happened  between  them  the  slightest  jar  that 
needed  reconciliation.  The  opposition  of  the  father, 
however  strong  while  it  lasted,  appeai-s  to  have  been  very 
cordially  withdrawn.  He  gave  his  full  consent  to  their 
union  at  the  last,  and  himself  gave  away  his  daughter, 
when  they  were  united  in  the  bands  of  marriage. 

The  scene  of  domestic  happiness  and  piety  which  the 
Broad  Oak  family  presented,  was  one  of  the  loveliest  ex- 
amples of  virtuous  contentment  and  kindly  affections, 
that  was  probably  ever  exhibited  among  the  happy 
"  homes  of  England."  Everything  moved  in  well-ordered 
,  harmony  and  peace  ;  no  discords  jaring  its  sweet  melody. 
He  ever  diligent  and  industrious,  enjoyed  the  ample 
stores  of  a  well-filled  library  ;  never  wearying  of  con- 
structing courses  of  sermons,  elaborated  with  all  the  in- 
genious learning  and  methodic  skill  to  which  we  have 
already  referred  ;  while  his  faithful  partner  was  no  less 
skilled  in  ordering  aright  the  ways  of  her  household,  and 
exercising  those  delightful  rites  of  hospitality  which  it 
was  their  good-fortune  to  be  able  to  bestow,  when  so  many 
of  Philip  Henry's  brethren  were  driven  forth  to  penury 
and  danger. 

H 


114 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


"  Mr.  Matthews,"  says  Matthew  Henry,  "  settled  part 
of  his  estate  before  maniagc  upon  them  and  theirs  ;  he 
lived  about  seven  years  after.:  and  when  he  died  the  re- 
mainder of  it  came  to  them.  This  competent  estate, 
which  the  divine  Providence  brought  into  his  hand,  was 
not  only  a  comfortable  support  to  him  when  he  was 
turned  out  of  his  living,  and  when  many  faithful  minis- 
ters of -Christ  were  reduced  to  great  poverty  and  straits  ; 
but  it  enabled  him  likewise,  as  he  had  opportunity,  to 
preach  the  gospel  freely,  which  he  did  to  his  dying  day  ; 
and  not  only  so,  but  to  give  for  the  relief  of  others  that 
were  in  want,  in  which  he  sowed  plentifully  to  a  very 
large  proportion  of  his  income  ;  and  often  blessed  God 
that  he  had  wherewithal,  remembering  the  words  of  the 
Lord,  how  he  said, — '  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive.' 

"  Such  was  his  house,  and  such  the  vine  which  God 
graciously  planted  by  the  side  of  his  house.  By  her  God 
gave  him  six  children,  all  born  within  less  than  eight 
years  ;  the  two  eldest,  sons,  John  and  Matthew ;  the 
other  four,  daughters,  Sarah,  Katharine,  Eleanor,  and 
Ann,  His  eldest  son  John  died  in  the  sixth  year  of  his 
age  ;  and  the  rest  were  in  mercy  continued  to  him." 

Of  the  genial  domestic  piety,  and  the  sweet  interchange 
of  Christian  sympathy  which  bound  him  and  his  wife  so 
closely  together,  some  idea  may  be  formed  from  the  fol- 
lowing remarks  of  his  son  ;  after  referring  to  the  follow- 
ing reflection  of  his  father  as  to  secret  prayer  :  "  There  are 
two  doors  to  be  shut  when  we  go  to  prayer  ;  the  door  of 
our  closet,  that  we  may  be  secret ;  the  door  of  our  hearts, 
that  we  may  be  serious,' '  Matthew  Henry  adds  :  "  Be- 


THE  rev:  PHILIP  HENRY. 


115 


sides  this,  he  and  his  wife  constantly  prayed  together 
morning  and  evening  ;  and  never,  if  they  were  together, 
at  home  or  abroad,  was  it  intermitted  :  and  fi*om  his  own 
experience  of  the  benefit  of  this  practice,  he  would  take 
all  opportunities  to  recommend  it  to  those  in  that  rela- 
tion, as  conducing  .very  much  to  the  comfort  of  it,  and 
to  their  furtherance  in  that  which,  he  would  often  say, 
is  the  great  dutj'  of  yoke-fellows  ;  and  that  is,  to  do  all 
they  can  to  help  one  another  to  heaven.  He  would  say, 
that  this  duty  of  husbands  and  wives  praying  together, 
is  intimated  in  that  of  the  apostle,  1  Peter  iii.  7,  where 
they  are  exhorted  to  '  live  as  heirs  together  of  the  grace 
of  life,  that  their  prayers,'  especially  their  prayers  to- 
gether, '  be  not  hindered  : '  that  nothing  may  be  done  to 
hinder  them  from  praying  together,  nor  to  hinder  them 
in  it,  nor  to  spoil  the  success  of  those  prayers.  This 
-sanctifies  the  relation,  and  fetcheth  in  a  blessing  upon  it, 
makes  the  comforts  of  it  the  more  sweet,  and  the  cares 
■  nd  crosses  of  it  the  more  easy,  and  is  an  excellent  means 
>f  preserving  and  increasing  love  in  the  relation." 

Of  his  intercourse  with  the  rest  of  his  family,  the  fol- 
lowing delightful  account  of  social  worship  enjoined  as  a 
duty,  and  practised  as  a  high  privilege,  will  afford  a  pic- 
ture such  as  is  rarely  to  be  found  even  in  Christian 
families  :  He  made  conscience,  a  business,  of  family- 
A'orship,  in  all  the  parts  of  it ;  and  in  it  he  was  uniform, 
steady,  and  constant,  from  the  time  that  he  was  first 
called  to  the  charge  of  a  family  to  his  dying  day  ;  and, 
according  to  his  own  practice,  he  took  all  occasions  to 
press  it  upon  others.  He  would  say,  sometimes,  if  the 
worship  of  God  be  not  in  the  house,  write, — Lord,  have 


LIFE  ANP  TIMES  OP 


mercy  upon  us,  on  the  door  ;  for  there  is  a  plague,  a  curse, 
in  it.  It  is  the  judgment  of  Archbishop  Tillotson,  in  that 
excellent  book,  which  he  published  a  little  before  his 
death,  upon  this  subject, — That  constant  family- worship 
is  so  necessary  to  keep  alive  a  sense  of  God  and  religion 
in  the  minds  of  men,  that  he  sees  not  how  any  family 
that  neglects  it  can  in  reason  be  esteemed  a  family  of 
Christians,  or  indeed  to  have  any  religion  at  all.  How 
earnestly  would  Mr.'Henry  reason  with  people  sometimes 
about  this  matter,  and  tell  them  what  a  blessing  it  would 
bring  upon  them  and  their  houses,  and  all  that  they  had  ! 
Be  that  makes  his  house  a  little  church,  shall  find  that 
God  will  make  it  a  little  sanctuary.  It  may  be  of  use  to 
give  a  particular  account  of  his  practice  in  this  matter, 
because  it  was  very  exemplary.  As  to  the  time  of  it,  his 
rule  was,  commonly,  the  earlier  the  better,  both  morning 
and  evening  ;  in  the  morning,  before  worldly  business 
crowded  in, — '  Early  will  I  seek  thee.'  He  that  is  the 
first,  should  have  the  first.  Kor  is  it  fit  that  the  worship 
of  God  should  stand  by  and  wait  while  the  world's  turn 
is  served.  And  early  in  the  evening,  before  the  children 
and  servants  began  to  be  sleepy  :  and  therefore,  if  it 
might  be,  he  would  have  prayer  at  night  before  supper, 
that  the  body  might  be  the  more  fit  to  serve  the  soul  in 
that  service  of  God.  And  indeed  he  did  industriously 
contrive  all  the  circumstances  of  his  family-worship,  so 
as  to  make  it  most  solemn,  and  most  likely  to  answer 
the  end.  He  always  made  it  the  business  of  every  day, 
and  not,  as  too  many  make  it,  a  bye-business.  This  being 
his  fixed  principle,  all  other  affairs  must  be  sure  to  give 
way  to  this.    And  he  would  tell  those  who  objected 


THE  RET.  PHILIP  HENRT. 


117 


against  family-worship,  that  they  could  not  get  time  for 
it ;  that,  if  they  would  but  put  on  Christian  resolution 
at  first,  they  would  not  find  the  diflaculty  so  great  as  they 
imagined  ;  but,  after  a  while,  their  other  affairs  would 
fall  in  easily  and  naturally  with  this,  especially  where 
there  is  that  wisdom  wliich  is  profitable  to  direct.  Nay, 
they  would  find  it  to  be  a  great  preserver  of  order  and 
decency  in  a  family,  and  it  would  be  like  a  hem  to  all 
their  other  business,  to  keep  it  from  ravelling.    He  was 
ever  careful  to  have  all  his  family  present  at  family-wor- 
ship ;  though  sometimes,  living  in  the  country,  he  had  a 
great  household  ;  yet  he  would  have  not  only  his  chil- 
dren and  sojourners,  if  he  had  any,  and  domestic  servants, 
but  his  workmen  and  day-labourers,  and  all  that  were 
employed  for  him,  if  they  were  within  call,  to  be  present, 
to  join  with  him  in  this  service  ;  and,  as  it  was  an  act  of 
his  charity  many  times  to  set  them  to  work  for  liim,  so 
to  that  he  added  this  act  of  piety,  to  set  them  to  work  for 
God.    And  usually,  when  he  paid  his  workmen  their 
wages,  he  gave  them  some  good  counsel  about  their 
souls.    Yet,  if  any  that  should  come  to  family- worship, 
were  at  a  distance,  and  must  be  stayed  for  long,  he  would 
rather  vrant  them,  than  put  the  duty  much  out  of  time ; 
and  would  sometimes  say,  at  night, — Better  one  away, 
than  all  sleepy." 

Very  toucliing  is  the  following  account  of  the  patri- 
archal custom  mth  which  he  was  wont  to  conclude 
the  daily  services  of  family-worship  :  "  He  always," 
says  his  son,  "  concluded  family-prayer,  both  morning 
and  evening,  with  a  solemn  benediction,  after  the  doxo- 
logy  ; — The  blessing  of  God  Almighty,  the  Father,  the 


118 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  be  with  us,  &c.  Thus  did  he 
daily  bless  his  household  : — 

"  Immediately  after  the  prayer  was  ended,  his  children 
together,  with  bended  knee,  asked  blessing  of  him  and 
their  mother  ;  that  is,  desired  of  them  to  pray  to  God  to 
bless  them  :  which  blessing  was  given  with  great  solem- 
nity and  affection  ;  and  if  any  of  them  were  absent,  they 
were  remembered, — The  Lord  bless  you  and  your  brother, 
or, — you  and  your  sister  that  is  absent. 

"  This  was  his  daily  worship,  which  he  never  altered, 
unless,  as  is  after  mentioned,  nor  ever  omitted  any  part 
of,  though  he  went  from  home  never  so  early,  or  re- 
turned never  so  late,  or  had  never  so  much  business  for 
his  servants  to  do.  He  would  say,  that  sometimes  he  saw 
cause  to  shorten  them  ;  but  he  would  never  omit  any  of 
them  ;  for,  if  an  excuse  be  once  admitted  for  an  omission, 
it  will  be  often  returning.  He  was  not  willing,  unless 
the  necessity  were  urgent,  that  any  should  go  from  his 
house  in  a  morning  before  family-worship  ;  upon  such  an 
occasion,  he  would  remind  his  friends,  that, — prayer  and 
provender  never  hinder  a  journey. 

"  He  managed  his  daily  family-worship  so  as  to  make 
it  a  pleasure,  and  not  a  task,  to  his  children  and  servants  ; 
for  he  was  seldom  long,  and  never  tedious  in  the  sei*vice ; 
the  variety  of  the  duties  made  it  the  more  pleasant ;  so 
that  none  who  joined  with  him  had  ever  any  reason  to 
say,  '  What  a  weariness  is  it ! '  Such  an  excellent  faculty 
he  had  of  rendering  religion  the  most  sweet  and  amiable 
employment  in  the  world  ;  and  so  careful  was  he,  like 
Jacob,  '  to  drive  as  the  children  could  go.'  If  some  good 
people,  that  mean  well,  would  do  likewise,  it  might  pre- 


rnE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


119 


vent  many  of  those  prejudices  which  young  persons  are 
apt  to  conceive  against  religion,  when  its  services  are  made 
a  toil  and  a  teiTor  to  them. 

"  Thus/'  adds  his  affectionate  biographer,  "  was  he 
prophet  and  priest  in  his  own  house  ;  and  he  was  king 
there  too,  ruling  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  not  suffering  sin 
in  any  under  his  roof. 

"  He  had  in  earlier  years  a  man-servant,  that  was  once 
overtaken  in  drink  abroad  ;  for  which,  the  next  morning, 
at  family-Avorship,  he  solemnly  reproved  him,  admonished 
him,  and  prayed  for  him,  with  a  spirit  of  meekness,  and 
soon  after  parted  with  him.  But  there  were  many  that 
were  his  sei-vants,  who,  by  the  blessing  of  God  upon  his 
endeavours,  got  those  good  impressions  upon  their  souls 
which  they  retained  ever  after,  and  blessed  God,  with 
all  their  hearts,  that  ever  they  came  under  his  roof.  Few 
quitted  his  service  till  they  were  married,  and  went 
to  families  of  their  own  ;  and  some,  after  they  had  been 
married,  and  had  buried  their  yoke-fellows,  returned  to 
his  service  again,  saying, — Master,  it  is  good  to  be  here." 

Seldom  has  a  sweeter  scene  of  domestic  joy  and  peace 
l}een  witnessed  under  a  Christian  roof,  than  that  which 
tlie  well-ordered  household  of  Philip  Henry  displayed, — 
all  was  "  pure,  and  lovely,  gentle,  and  of  good  report." 
"W  isdom's  ways  were  there  seen  to  be  ways  of  pleasant- 
ness and  all  her  paths  peace.  The  example  he  offers  of 
a  Christian  parent  ruling  by  love  is  altogether  delightful  ; 
probably  no  one  ever  excelled  him  in  the  happy  skill  with 
which  he  made  religious  instruction  delightful  to  his 
household. 

"  He  did  not,"  says  his  son,  "  burden  his  children's 


120 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


memories  by  imposing  on  them  the  getting  of  chapters 
and  psahns  without  book  ;  but  endeavoured  to  make  the 
whole  word  of  God  familiar  to  them,  especially  the 
scripture  stories,  and  to  bring  them  to  understand  and 
lox'e  it,  and  then  they  would  easily  remember  it.  He 
used  to  observe  from  Psalm  cxix.  93  :  '  I  will  never  for- 
get thy  precepts,  for  wnth  them  thou  hast  quickened  mc,' 
that  we  are  then  most  likely  to  remember  the  word  of 
God  when  it  does  us  good. 

"  He  himself  taught  all  his  children  to  write,  and  set 
them  betimes  to  transcribe  sermons,  and  other  things 
that  might  be  of  use  to  them.  He  taught  his  eldest 
daughter  the  Hebrew  tongue  when  she  was  between 
six  and  seven  years  old,  by  means  of  an  English  Hebrew 
Grammar,  which  he  made  on  purpose  for  her  ;  and  she 
went  so  far  in  it  as  to  be  able  readily  to  read  and  con- 
strue a  Hebrew  psalm.  He  drew  up  the  following  short 
form  of  the  baptismal  covenant  for  the  use  of  his  chil- 
dren : 

'  I  take  God  the  Father  to  be  my  chiefest  good  and 
highest  end. 

'  I  take  God  the  Son  to  be  my  Prince  and  Saviour. 
'  I  take  God  the  Holy  Ghost  to  be  my  Sanctifier, 

Teacher,  Guide,  and  Comforter. 
'  I  take  the  word  of  God  to  be  my  rule  in  all  my 

actions  ;  and  the  people  of  God  to  be  my  people 

in  all  conditions. 
*  I  do  likewise  devote  and  dedicate  unto  the  Lord,  my 

whole  self,  all  I  am,  all  I  have,  and  all  I  can  do. 
'  And  this  I  do  deliberately,  sincerely,  freely,  and  for 

ever.' 


THE  REV,  PHILIP  HENRY. 


121 


"Tliis  he  taught  his  children,  and  they  each  of  them 
solemnly  repeated  it  every  Lord's  day  in  the  evening, 
after  they  were  catechised,  he  putting  his  Amen  to  it, 
and  sometimes  adding, — So  say,  and  so  do,  and  you  are 
made  for  ever.  * 

"  He  also  took  pains  with  them  to  lead  them  to  the 
understanding  of  it,  and  to  persuade  them  to  a  free  and 
cheerful  consent  to  it.  And  when  they  grew  up,  he 
made  them  all  write  it  over  severally  with  their  own 
hands,  and  very  solemnl}'  set  their  names  to  it,  which  he 
told  them  he  would  keep  by  him,  and  it  should  be  pro- 
duced as  a  testimony  against  them  in  case  they  should 
afterwards  depart  from  God,  and  turn  from  following 
after  him." 

Sir  J.  B.  Williams  presents,  in  his  beautiful  enlarged 
edition  of  Matthew  Henry's  biography  of  his  father,  a 
fac-simile  of  this  very  solemn  baptismal  covenant,  in  the 
hand\vriting  of  each  of  the  members  of  the  Broad  Oak 
family  ;  certainly  one  of  the  most  striking  and  appropriate 
illustrations  that  could  have  been  selected  for  a  biography 
which  the  late  Dr.  Edward  Williams  characterized  as  "  a 
beautiful  delineation  of  primitive  Christianity,  and  the 
power  of  godliness  ;  where  social  religion  and  personal 
holiness  are  drawn  to  the  life,  and  eminently  manifested  ; 
where,  in  a  word,  the  doctrine  of  the  life  of  God  in  the 
soul  of  man  derives  a  striking  proof  and  a  venerable 
sanction."  It  is  a  series  of  most  solemn  treaties,  signed 
after  earnest  and  prayerful  preparation,  and  preserved 
among  the  family  charters  of  Broad  Oak,  as  a  compact 
wherein  God  was  one  of  the  contracting  parties  with  each 
of  its  members;  and  for  whom  each  was  ready  to  be  produced 


122 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


as  a  testimony  against  them  if  they  should  forget  or  for- 
sake the  vows  of  their  youth.  But  God  did  not  forget 
his  own  promises  to  the  righteous  and  to  his  seed. 
These  baptismal  covenants  never  were  produced  as  an 
e\ddence  of  their  faithlessness,  or  a  testimony  against 
any  one  of  them. 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

THE  RESTOKATION 


The  period  of  Philip  Henry's  maniage  was  one  in 
which  England  generally  experienced  all  the  evils  of  un- 
certainty and  fear.  Oliver  Cromwell,  the  great  Protec- 
tor of  the  English  Commonwealth,  was  already  in  his 
grave,  and  in  the  weak  hands  of  his  son  Richard,  all  things 
had  threatened  to  lapse  into  anarchy  and  confusion — a 
state  of  things  only  averted  at  last  by  the  unconditional 
restoration  of  the  Stuarts,  whose  tyranny  had  already 
brought  so  much  woe  and  suffering  on  the  nation.  Every 
thing  seemed  falling  into  confusion  and  disorder,  after 
the  resignation  of  Richard,  and  Charles  and  his  old  ad- 
herents soon  began  to  augur  hopefully  from  such  a  statf 
of  things.  In  August,  1659,  he  removed  to  Calais,  so 
as  to  be  ready  to  avail  himself  of  any  chance  that  might 
offer  for  his  return  to  his  father's  throne.  He  had  still, 
however,  to  wait  for  seme  time,  and  removed  to  Breda, 
where  he  at  length  was  delighted  by  the  receipt  of  Gene- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  ITENRT. 


ral  Monk's  proposals  for  his  restoration.  From  Breda, 
in  the  month  of  April,  1660 — the  same  in  which  Philip 
Henry  was  married — Charles  wrote  his  letters  to  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  to  the  Commons,  and  penned  his 
royal  declaration  to  all  his  loving  subjects,  full  of  pro- 
mises which  he  never  performed. 

On  the  1st  of  the  following  month  of  May,  the  par- 
liament voted  his  restoration,  and  he  was  proclaimed  in 
London  within  a  week  after,  as  sovereign  of  England, 
Scotland,  and  Ireland. 

The  people  were  worn  out  with  successive  changes, 
threats,  and  fears,  since  the  death  of  the  great  Protector  ; 
and  sunk  passively  into  the  hands  of  Charles  and  his 
cavalier  councillors.  He  commenced  his  reign  by  a  com- 
plete restoration  of  the  ancient  order  of  things,  both  in 
church  and  state — thereby  rendering,  as  it  seemed,  utterly 
vain  and  worthless  all  the  sufferings  and  toils  with  which 
the  nation  had  struggled  against  oppression. 

Such  were  the  events  which  were  occurring  at  the  time 
of  Philip  Henry's  marriage,  and  such  the  momentous  ne- 
gotiations that  were  pending,  wliile  he,  too,  negotiated  a 
matter  on  which  his  own  future  happiness  so  gi'^atly  de- 
pended. The  ejection  of  the  Presbyterian  clergy  did  not 
follow  immediately  on  the  restoration  of  Charles  II.  and 
the  overthrow  of  every  alteration  and  reform  effected 
since  the  first  assembling  of  the  long  parliament ;  but  all 
who  differed  conscientiously  from  the  established  form  of 
government  in  church  or  state,  must  have  experienced 
no  slight  degree  of  anxiety  and  apprehension,  so  soon  as 
the  course  of  procedure  adopted  by  Charles  was  made 
fully  known.    The  following  letter,  addressed  to  Mrs. 


124 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


Henry  by  her  husband,  during  a  short  visit  he  made  to 
the  capital  a  few  months  after  their  marriage,  affords 
some  curious  and  very  interesting  insight  into  the  early 
proceedings  of  the  new  reign,  and  the  circumstances  in 
which  the  country  was  involved  shortly  after  Charles 
began  to  carry  out  his  schemes  for  re-modelling  the  go- 
vernment. It  is  no  less  pleasing,  from  the  evidence  it 
affords  of  the  afJectionate  solicitude  and  the  simple  ^iety 
of  the  writer : 

"London,  Oct.  9,  1660. 

"  Dear  Heart, 

"  I  bless  God  I  am  safe  and  well  at  London. 
I  came  from  Oxford  yesterday  morning  alone,  but  the 
Lord  was  with  me  ;  it  was  a  long  journey,  but  I  was 
stirring  betimes.  I  was  nine  miles  on  my  way  before 
eight  o'clock,  and  came  an  liour  or  two  before  sunset  to 
Thistleworth.  Towards  the  end  of  my  journey,  for  three 
or  four  miles,  where  was  most  danger,  it  pleased  God  I 
had  company,  which  was  a  great  mercy.  I  met  many 
soldiers  upon  the  way,  going  homewards  upon  their  dis- 
banding, towards  their  several  countries,  and  I  was 
sometimes  afi-aid  of  them.  They  were  by  two  and  three 
in  a  company,  but  the  Lord  preserved  me.  This  morn- 
ing I  came  to  Chelsea,  where  I  saw  my  sisters  in  health, 
blessed  be  God,  and  overjoyed  to  see  me  ;  from  thence, 
this  afternoon  to  London.  I  have  been  with  cousin 
Thomas  Hotchkis,  from  whom  I  received  a  letter  to  Sir 
Orlando  Bridgman  from  Mr.  Eddow  ;  and  to-morrow  I 
purpose,  God  willing,  to  wait  upon  his  Lordship,  expect- 
ing a  charge  from  him  in  the  first  place,  about  confor- 
mity, wherein  yet  I  shall  do  as  I  see  cause,  in  case  I 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


125 


should  be  continued  at  Wortllenbur3^  The  ministers 
here  are  generally  unanimous  and  resolved.  Dr.  Sliel- 
don  was  installed  Bishop  of  London  to-day.  The  King 
is  gone  into  the  country  for  a  fortnight,  during  the  trial 
of  his  father's  judges,  to  prevent  petitions.  I  sleep  tu- 
night  at  Mrs.  Kingston's  who  desires  to  be  remeinbei  cd 
to  you,  and  to  Mr.  Puleston  and  his  wife.  I  wrote  to  you 
by  the  last  post,  from  Oxford.  Commend  me  to  sister 
Mary,  and  all  that  ask  of  me.  Dear  heart,  make  much 
of  thyself,  and  love  me,  and  the  Lord  everlasting  be  thy 
sun  and  shield  !    So  prayeth, 

"  Thine,  in  all  affection, 

"  Philip  Henry," 

The  newly-restored  King  was  busy,  as  we  see,  in  cele- 
brating liis  restoration  to  his  father's  throne,  by  such 
acts  of  vengeance  as  he  could  accomplish.  With  a  con- 
temptible meanness,  worthy  of  that  licentious  voluptuary 
and  his  sycophantish  court,  one  of  his  first  acts  was  to 
exhume  the  bodies  of  Cromwell  and  his  noble  mother,  and 
that  of  Admiral  Blake,  and  fling  them  out  of  West- 
minster Abbey  as  carrion  which  desecrated  that  ancient 
Clmstian  fane.  His  next  act  was  the  seizure  and  con- 
demnation of  as  many  of  his  father's  judges  as  he  could 
lay  hands  on,  during  which  season  of  triumphant  revenge 
England's  great  Christian  poet,  Milton,  narrowly  escaped 
the  scaffold.  We  obtain,  by  means  of  Philip  Henry's 
letter  to  his  wife,  a  glimpse  of  the  policy  of  the  rulers  of 
England  at  this  period  :  and  of  the  strange  state  of  dis- 
order and  uncertainty  that  still  prevailed.  The  with- 
drawal of  Charles,  to  escape  from  the  impoitunities  of 


126 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


those  who  urged  the  plea  of  mercy,  is  a  sufficiently  char- 
acteristic trait  of  the  initiatory  proceedings  of  the  go- 
vernment that  soon  after  gave  to  England  her  "  St.  Bar- 
tholomew's day,"  and  to  Scotland  the  persecutions  and 
the  martyrdoms  of  the  heroes  of  the  covenant. 

"  To  return,"  says  Matthew  Henry,  in  the  Life  of  his 
Father,  "  to  the  history  of  events  that  were  concerning 
him,  we  are  obliged  to  look  back  to  the  first  year  after  his 
marriage,  which  was  the  year  that  King  Charles  II. 
came  in ;  a  year  of  greatchanges  and  struggles  in  the  land, 
of  which  Mr.  Baxter,  in  his  life,  gives  a  full,  clear,  and 
impartial  idea  ;  by  which  it  may  be  easily  guessed  how 
it  went  with  Mr.  Henry  in  his  humble  and  narrow  sphere, 
whose  sentiments  in  those  things  were  very  much  the 
same  with  Mr.  Baxter's. 

"  Many  of  his  best  friends  in  Worthenbury  parish  were 
removed  by  death  ;  Emeral  family  was  altogether 
changed  from  what  it  had  been  ;  and  the  same  spirit, 
which  revived  that  year  all  over  the  nation,  was  working 
violently  in  that  county,  producing  great  enmity  against' 
such  men  as  Mr  Henry.  Worthenbury,  upon  the  King's 
coming  in,  was  restored  to  its  former  relation  to  Bangor, 
and  was  looked  upon  as  a  chapelry  dependent  upon  it.  Mr. 
Robert  Fogg  had,  for  many  years,  held  the  sequestered 
Rectory  of  Bangor,  which  now  Dr.  Henry  Bridgman, 
(son  to  John,  Bishop  of  Chester,  and  brother  to  the  Lord 
Keeper  Bridgman,)  returned  to  the  possession  of.  By 
this  Mr.  Henry  was  soon  apprehensive  that  his  interest 
at  Worthenbury  was  shaken  ;  but  thus  he  writes  : — '  The 
will  of  the  Lord  be  done.  Lord,  if  my  work  be  finished 
here,  provide  some  other  for  this  people,  that  may  be 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


127 


more  skilful,  and  more  successful,  and  cut  out  work  for 
me  elsewhere  ;  however,  I  will  take  nothing  ill  which 
God  doth  with  me. 

"  He  laboured  what  he  could  to  make  Dr.  Bridgman 
his  friend,  who  gave  him  good  words,  and  was  very  civil 
to  him.  He  assured  him  that  he  would  never  remove 
him  till  the  law  did  ;  but  he  must  look  upon  himself  as 
the  doctor's  curate,  and  depending  upon  his  will.  This 
kept  him  in  continual  expectation  of  removal  ;  how- 
ever, he  continued  in  his  liberty  there  above  a  year, 
though  in  vei-y  fickle  and  precarious  circumstances. 

"  The  grand  question  now  on  foot  was,  whether  to  con- 
form, or  no.  He  used  all  means  possible  to  satisfy  him- 
elf  concerning  it,  by  reading  and  discourse,  particularly 
at  Oxford,  with  Dr.  Fell,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Oxford, 
but  in  vain  ;  his  dissatisfaction  remained  ; — however, 
saith  he,  I  dare  not  judge  those  that  do  conform  ;  for, 
who  am  I,  that  I  should  judge  my  brothej-  ?" 

Addressing  Dr.  Bridgman  about  this  period,  he  thus 
expressed  his  views,  which  afford  a  fair  example  of  the 
moderation  of  those  good  men  who  were  driven  into 
Nonconformity  b}-  the  intolerance  of  the  restoration-go- 
vernment : — "  I  think  I  am  none  of  those  who  are  in 
the  extremes  ;  nevertheless,  my  resolution  is,  if  those 
things  be  indispensably  imposed  which  I  cannot  practise 
without  sinning  against  my  conscience,  I  shall  choose 
rather  to  lose  all,  yet  not  violating,  by  my  good-will, 
the  public  peace  of  the  church.  And  herein,  I  presume, 
you  will  not  blame  me.  But,  if  moderation  be  used, 
wherein  it  will  be  your  honour  to  be  instrumental,  if  my 
poor  t^ilent  may  contribute  anything  to  the  glory  of  God, 


128 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


and  the  salvation  of  souls,  I  trust  I  shall  never  be  found 
guilty  of  wilfully  burying  it,  lest  I  fall  under  the  '  woe 
i£  I  preach  not  the  gospel,'  God,  of  his  infinite  mercy, 
direct  you,  and  all  who  are  called  to  consult  in  the  af- 
fairs of  religion,  that  you  may  do  nothing  against  the 
truth  and  peace,  but  for  it,  which  is  the  hearty  prayer 
of,  Sir, 

Your  servant  in  the  gospel, 

P.  Henry." 

He  notes,  that  being  in  discourse  with  the  Dean  and 
Cliancellor  and  others  at  Chester,  about  this  time,  the 
great  argument  they  used  with  him  to  persuade  him  to 
conform  was,  that  otlierwise  he  would  lose  his  prefer- 
ment. What,  said  they,  you  are  a  young  man,  and 
are  you  wiser  than  the  King  and  bishops  1  But  this 
is  his  reflection  upon  it  afterwards  ; — "  God  grant  that  I 
may  never  be  left  to  consult  with  flesh  and  blood  in  such 
matters." 

"  In  September,  1660,  Mr.  Fogg,  Mr.  Steel,  and  Mr. 
Henry,  were  presented  at  Flint  Assizes,  for  not  reading 
the  Common  Prayer,  though  as  yet  it  was  not  enjoined, 
but  tliere  were  some  busy  people  would  outrun  the  law. 
They  entered  their  appearance,  and  soon  after  the  King's 
declaration,  touching  ecclesiastical  affairs  came  out, 
which  promised  liberty,  and  gave  hopes  of  settlement  ; 
but  the  following  spring  assizes,  Mr.  Steel  and  Mr.  Henrj' 
were  presented  again.  On  this  he  writes  :  '  Be  merciful 
to  me,  0  God,  for  man  would  swallow  me  up  !  The 
Lord  show  me  what  he  would  have  me  to  do,  for  I  am 
afraid  of  nothing  but  sin.'  " 


THE  REV.  PniLIP  HENRY. 


129 


It  appears  by  hints  from  his  diary,  that  he  had  melan- 
choly apprehensions  at  this  time  about  public  affairs, 
seeing  and  hearing  of  so  many  faithful  ministers  disturbed, 
silenced,  and  ensnared  ;  tlie  ways  of  Zion  mourning,  and 
the  quiet  in  the  land  treated  as  the  troublers  of  it,  his 
'•ul  wept  in  secret  for  it.''    Yet  he  joined  in  the  annual 

inmemoration  of  the  King's  restoration,  retaining  his 
old  fidelity  to  the  playmate  of  his  youth,  and  the  son  of 
the  royal  master  whom  his  father  served  so  faithfully  to 
his  last  hour.  He  preached  on  Mark  xii.  17  :  " '  Render 
to  Ceasar  the  things  that  are  Ceasar's  :'  considering,  saith 
he,  that  this  was  his  right ;  and  the  manner  of  his 
coming  in  without  bloodshed.  Tliis  he  all  his  days 
spoke  of  as  a  national  mercy,  but  w^hat  he  rejoiced  in 
with  a  great  deal  of  trembling  for  '  the  ark  of  God  and 
he  would  sometimes  say, — That  during  those  years  of 
the  Commonwealth  and  Protectorate,  though  on  ciyil 
accounts  there  were  great  disorders,  and  the  foundations 
were  out  of  course  ;  yet,  in  the  matters  of  God's  worsliip, 
things  went  well,  there  was  fi-eedom,  and  reformation, 
and  a  face  of  godliness  was  upon  the  nation,  though  there 
were  those  that  made  but  a  inask  of  it.  Ordinances  were 
administered  in  power  and  purity,  and  though  there  was 
much  amiss,  yet  religion,  at  least  in  the  profession  of  it, 
did  prevail.  This,  saith  he,  we  know  very  well,  let  men 
say  what  they  will  of  those  times. 

"  In  November,  1660,  he  took  the  oath  of  allegiance  at 
Orton,  before  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  and  two  other  justices  ; 
of  which  he  has  left  a  memorandum  in  his  diary,  with 
this  added  :  God  so  help  me,  as  1  purpose  in  my  heart,  * 
to  do  accordingly.    Nor  could  any  more  conscientiously 

I 


130 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


observe  that  oath  of  God  than  he  did,  nor  more  sincerely 
promote  the  ends  of  it. 

"  That  year,  according  to  an  agi-eement  with  some  of 
his  brethren  in  the  ministry,  who  hoped  thereby  to  oblige 
some  people,  he  preached  upon  Christmas  day.  The  sab- 
bath before,  it  happened  that  the  twenty-third  chapter 
of  Leviticus,  which  treats  entirely  of  the  Jewish  feasts, 
called  there  'the  feasts  of  the  Lord,'  came  in  course  to 
be  expounded,  which  gave  him  occasion  to  distinguish 
feasts  divine  and  ecclesiastical  ;  the  divine  feasts  that 
the  Jews  had  were  those  there  appointed,  their  ecclesi- 
astical feasts  were  those  of  Purim,  and  of  Dedication. 
In  the  application  of  it,  he  said  he  knew  no  divine 
feast  we  have  under  the  gospel,  but  the  Lord's  day,  in- 
tended for  the  commemoration  of  the  whole  mercy  of 
our  redemption.  The  most  that  could  *be  said  for 
Christmas  was,  that  it  is  an  ecclesiastical  feast  ;  and  it  is 
questionable  with  some,  whether  church  or  state,  though 
they  could  make  a  good  day,  could  make  a  holy  day. 
Nevertheless,  forasmuch  as  we  find  our  Lord  Jesus  so 
far  complying  with  the  church  feast  of  dedication,  as  to 
take  occasion  from  the  people's  coming  together  to  preach 
to  them,  he  purposed  to  preach  upon  Christmas  day, 
knowing  it  to  be  his  duty,  in  season  and  out  of  season. 
He  preached  on  1  John  iii.  8,  '  Fgr  this  purpose  was  the 
Son  of  God  manifested,  that  he  might  destroy  the  works 
of  the  devil.'  And  he  minded  his  people  that  it  is  double 
dishonour  to  Jesus  Christ  to  practise  the  works  of  the 
devil  then,  when  we  keep  a  feast  in  memory  of  his 
*  manifestation." 


THE  REV.  nilLIP  HENRY. 


131 


CHAPTER  Xni. 

EXCLUSION  FR05I  WORTHENBURY. 

One  of  the  earliest,  as  well  as  the  most  painful  evi- 
dences Philip  Henry  experienced  of  the  influence  of  the 
important  political  changes  of  the  period,  on  his  own  cir- 
cumstances, was  the  total  estrangement  of  the  Emeral 
family,  through  whose  generous  zeal,  under  the  good 
■;  vovidence  of  God,  he  had  been  introduced  into  the  sphere 
his  labours  as  a  Christian  minister,  and  by  whom  he 
i:ad  been  so  kindly  and  liberally  provided  for.    He  was 
left,  however,  like  the  children  of  Israel  in  the  land  of 
shen,  "  when  there  arose  up  anothei  king  over  Egypt 
it  knew  not  Joseph."    His  attached  friend  Lady  Pules- 
1,  and  the  pious  Judge,  his  kind  and  generous  patron, 
IB  no  more,  while  the  heirs  who  had  succeeded  to  the 
I  eral  estates,  looked  on  the  earnest  zeal  of  Philip  Henry 
fin  offensive  austerity,  which  was  a  reproof  of  their  de- 
.  aou  of  the  principles  they  had  been  taught  in  their 
.;tli.    The  very  liberality  of  the  good  old  Judge  ex- 
posed Hem-y  to  the  envy  and  injustice  of  liis  heu's,  as  he 
had  settled  on  him  a  stipend  chargeable  on  the  estate,  at 
once  superior  to  the  average  amount  of  the  tithes,  and  in- 
dependent of  any  of  the  fluctuations  or  drawbacks  to 
which  that  ecclesiastical  tax  is  subject. 

''His  annuity  from  Emeral,"  says  Mathew  Henry,  "was 
now  withheld,  because  he  did  not  read  the  Common  Prayer, 
though,  as  yet,  there  was  no  law  for  reading  it :  hereby 


X32 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


he  was  disabled  from  doing  wliat  he  had  been  wont  for  the 
help  and  relief  of  others ;  and  this  he  has  recorded  as 
what  troubled  him  most  under  that  disappointment. 
But  he  blessed  God, — That  he  had  a  heai-t  to  do  good, 
even  when  his  hand  was  empty. 

"When  the  Emeral  family  was  unkind  to  him,  he 
reckoned  it  a  great  mercy,  which  he  gave  God  thanks  for, 
that  Mr.  Broughton  and  his  family,  which  is  of  consider- 
able figure  in  the  parish,  continued  their  kindness  and 
respect  to  him,  and  their  countenance  of  his  ministry,  of 
which  he  makes  fateful  mention  more  than  once  in  his 
diary. 

"  Many  attempts  were  made  in  the  year  1661  to  dis- 
turb and  ensnare  him,  and  it  was  still  expected  that  he 
would  have  been  hindered. — Methinks,  says  he,  sabbaths 
were  never  so  sweet  as  they  are,  now  we  are  kept  at  such 
uncertainties  ;  now,  '  a  day.  in  thy  courts  is  better  than 
a  thousand such  a  day  as  this,  he  remarks  of  a  sacrament- 
day  that  year,  is  better  than  ten  thousand.  Oh,  that  we 
might  yet  see  many  such  days  !  " 

Some  extracts  from  his  diary,  at  this  peiiod,  afford 
striking  evidence  of  the  elevated  piety  and  holy  meek- 
ness of  the  writer,  and  are  well  calculated  to  excite  grati- 
tude for  present  privileges,  civil  and  religious. 

"  1661.  January,  24,  25.  A  time  of  trouble  in  the 
nation.  Many  good  men  imprisoned  and  restrained  : 
some  with,  some  without,  cause.  I  am  yet  in  peace, 
blessed  be  God,  but  expect  suffering.  Lord,  prepare  me 
for  it,  and  grant  that  I  may  never  suffer  as  an  evil-doer, 
but  as  a  Christian  ! 

"  31.  Things  are  lov/  with  me  in  the  world  ;  but  three- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


133 


pence  left.  My  hope  is  yet  in  the  Lord,  that  in  due  time 
he  will  supply  me.  Amen." 

In  the  next  entry,  dated  April  3d,  he  alludes  to  a  prac 
tice  which  is  thus  referred  to  by  Sir  J.  B.  Williams  :  "  In 
the  year  1576,  Archbishop  Grindal  '  encouraged  a  prac- 
tice which  was  taken  up  in  divers  places  of  the  nation  : 
the  manner  whereof  was,  that  the  ministers  of  such  a  di- 
vision, at  a  set  time,  met  together  in  some  church  ;  and 
there,  each  in  their  order,  explained,  according  to  their 
ability,  some  particular  portion  of  scripture  allotted  them 
before,  &c.  At  these  assemblies  there  were  great  con- 
fluxes of  people  to  hear  and  learn.'  These  were  com- 
monly called  Exercises,  or  Prophesyings.  However, 
Queen  Elizabeth  'liked  not  of  them,'  nor  would  she 
have  them  continued.  '  The  Archbishop  being  at  court, 
she  required  him  to  abridge  the  number  of  preachers, 
and  to  put  down  the  religious  exercises.  This  did  not 
a  little  afflict  the  grave  man.  He  thought  the  Queen 
made  some  infringement  upon  his  office,  nor  could  he  in 
conscience  comply  with  her  commands.'  He,  therefore, 
wrote  toiler  Majesty,  and  the  whole  of  his  'excellent 
and  memorable  letter '  is  preserved  in  the  Appendix  to 
his  Life  and  Acts,  by  Strype.  Her  Majesty,  however, 
was  immoveable,  and  sent  her  own  commandment.  May, 
1577,  to  the  '  Bishops  throughout  England  for  suppress- 
ing' these  Exercises,  they  being  an  'offence '  to  her  quiet 
subjects,  who  desired  'to  live  and  to  serve  God  according 
to  the  uniform  orders  established  in  the  church.'  Nor 
was  this  all :  the  venerable  Archbishop  was  both  con- 
fined and  sequestered." 

Such  is  the  origin  of  the  service  to  which  Philip  Heniy 


134 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


thus  refers  in  his  diary  :  "  Hanmer  exercise.  Mr.  Por- 
ter and  Mr.  Steel  taught.  I  was  designed  to  it,  but  it 
was  much  better  as  it  was.  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  signi- 
fied his  dislike  of  it,  which  made  it  doubtful  M^hetherwe 
should  have  any  more,  but  at  parting  I  never  saw  such 
a  face  of  sadness  as  was  upon  those  who  were  present. 
Sure,  God  hears  the  sighs,  and  sees  the  tears,  of  his  poor 
people. 

"  June  16.  Common-Prayer  Book  tendered  again ; 
why,  I  know  not.  Lord,  they  devise  devices  against  me, 
but  in  thee  do  I  put  my  trust.  '  Father,  forgive  them  ! ' 
My  hands  are  yet  clean  from  the  pollutions  of  the  times. 
Lord,  keep  them,  and  '  let  no  iniquity  prevail  against  me.' 

"  23.  Strong  reports  I  should  not  be  suffered  to  preach 
to-day;  but  I  did;  and  no  disturbance.  Blessed  be  God, 
who  hath  my  enemies  in  a  chain. 

"  July  4.  News  from  London  of  speedy  severity  in- 
tended against  Nonconformists.  The  Lord  can  yet,  if  he 
will,  break  the  snare.    If  not,  welcome  the  will  of  God. 

"  8.  I  received  a  letter  from  Dr.  Bridgman,  wherein  he 
informed  me,  if  I  did  not  speedily  conform,  his  power 
would  no  longer  protect  me ;  to  which  I  wrote  a  dilatory, 
answer,  hoping,  yet,  my  God  may  find  out  some  way 
break  the  snare.  However,  I  had  rather  lose  all,  and 
save  my  conscience,  than  contra. 

"  9.  I  advised  with  friends  ;  R.  B.  told  me,  though  he 
desired  my  stay  above  any  outward  thing  in  the  world, 
yet  he  could  wish  rather  I  would  be  gone,  than  conform; 
I  was  with  Mr.  Steel,  with  whom  I  spent  two  or  three 
hours  in  discourse  about  it,  and  returned  home  strength"« 
ened. 


THE  REV.  PHTTJP  HENRY. 


135 


"  24.  Great  expectation  of  a  severe  act  about  impos- 
ing the  Common  Prayer  and  ceremonies.  It  passed  both 
Houses  of  Parliament,  but  is  not  signed  by  the  King. 
Lord,  his  heart  is  in  thy  hand ;  if  it  be  thy  will  turn  it : 
if  otherwise,  fit  thy  people  to  suffer,  and  cut  short  the 
work  in  righteousness !  " 

Again  he  notes,  in  the  month  of  September  following : 
8.  This  morning  I  verily  thought  I  should  have  been 
hindered  from  preaching,  but  was  not.  The  Lord  heard 
prayei-s.  Dr.  Bridgman  sent  me  a  Prohibition  from  the 
Chancellor  to  peruse,  upon  complaint  from  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer.  It  was  not  published.  Mr.  Taylor  hindered 
at  Holt.  Mr.  Adams  at  Penley.  Lord,  think  of  thy 
vineyard  !  They  took  the  cushion  from  me,  but  the 
pulpit  was  left.    Blessed  be  God. 

"29.  Liberty  yet  continued ;  an  order  was  brought  to  me 
to  be  published,  prohibiting  sti-angers  from  coming  hither 
to  church,  but  I  published  it  not.  Lord,  provide  for 
poor  congi-egations,  that  are  as  sheep  without  a  shepherd ! 

"October  17.  I  was  cited  to  appear  at  the  Bishop's 
Court,  as  upon  this  day,  but  went  not.  My  fault  was, — 
hindering  the  publishing  of  the  Dean's  Order  as  to  stran- 
gers. If  I  had  hindered  it,  it  had  been  a  small  fault : 
but  I  did  not ;  I  only  refused  to  publish  it  myself." 

Towards  the  end  of  October  we  find  the  following  en- 
try :  "  Through  the  good  hand  of  our  God  upon  us,  we  have 
this  day  enjoyed  one  sweet  sacrament  more.  They  did 
U8  all  the  hinderance  they  could,  but,  notwithstanding, 
afterwards,  we  proceeded." 

Continuing  the  biography  of  his  father,  Matthew  Henry 
remarks  :    "  He  was  advised  by  Mr.  Ratcliff  of  Ches- 


136 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


ter,  and  others  of  his  friends,  to  enter  an  action  against 
Mr.  Puleston  for  his  annuity,  and  did  so  ; — but,  concern- 
ing the  success  of  it,  saith  he,  I  am  not  over  solicitous  ; 
for,  though  it  be  my  due,  yet  it  was  not  that  which  I 
preached  for ;  and  God  knows,  I  would  much  rather 
preach  for  nothing,  than  not  at  all  ;  and  besides,  I  know 
assuredly,  if  I  should  lose,  God  would  make  it  up  to 
me  some  other  way.  After  some  proceedings  he  not  only 
moved,  but  solicited  Mr.  Puleston  to  refer  it ; — having 
learned,  says  he,  that  it  is  no  disparagement,  but  an 
honour,  for  the  party  wronged  to  be  first  in  seeking  re- 
conciliation. The  Lord,  if  it  be  his  will,  incline  his  heart 
to  peace.  I  have  now,  saith  he,  two  gi-eat  concerns  upon 
the  wheel,  one  in  reference  to  my  maintenance  for  time 
past  ;  the  other,  as  to  my  continuance  for  the  future  ; 
the  Lord  be  my  friend  in  both  ;  but,  of  the  two,  rather 
in  the  latter.  But,  saith  he,  many  of  greater  gifts  and 
graces  than  I  are  laid  aside  already,  and  when  my  turn 
comes  I  know  not ;  the  will  of  God  be  done.  He  can 
do  his  work  without  us." 

It  was  in  truth  a  period  of  peculiar  anxiety  to  this 
good  man,  for  he  was  not  only  in  daily  anticipation  of 
being  silenced,  and  altogether  cast  out  of  the  ministry', 
but  he  was  also  threatened  with,  the  loss  of  much  of  his 
just  income,  which  still  remained  due.  After  earnestly 
and  conscientiously  deliberating  on  the  arguments  both 
in  favour  and  against  his  claims,  he  thus  sums  up  the 
reasons  why  Mr.  Puleston  should  yield  to  a  composition 
with  him,  the  nature  of  which  shows  how  much  personal 
enmity  had  to  do  with  these  unjust  proceedings  : 

"1.  In  point  of  equity  :  the  labourer  being  worthy  of 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


137 


his  hire  ;  especially,  considering  the  labourer's  wages 
detained  cries  loud  in  heaven,  and  brings  a  curse. 

"2.  In  point  of  advantage.  If  I  should  recover,  as 
there  is  hope  I  may,  it  will  be  bad  for  him,  especially 
having  parted  with  the  tithes  which  he  might  have  kept. 

3.  In  point  of  honour.  I  came  hither  upon  the  in- 
vitation of  his  family  ;  left  my  place  in  the  University, 
where,  he  knows,  I  had  encouragement  to  have  stayed. 
Also  the  relation  wherein  I  stood  to  him  as  tutor. 
Also,  his  promise.  If  there  was  any  occasion  of  his  anger 
given,  it  was  when  he  was  a  child,  and  under  my  tuition, 
and  it  was  my  duty  to  complain  ;  though,  he  knows,  how 
sparing  I  was  that  way.  And  for  persuading  his  father 
to  disinherit  him,  he  hath  acknowledged  he  did  believe 
it  was  not  so  ;  and  I  know  it  was  not. 

"  The  issue  of  this  affair  was,  that,  there  having  been 
some  disputes  between  Mr.  Puleston  and  Dr.  Bridgman, 
about  the  tithe  of  Worthenbury,  wherein  the  former  had 
clearly  the  better  claim  to  make,  indeed,  by  the  media- 
tion of  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  they  came  to  this  agreement, 
September  11,  1661,  that  Dr.  Bridgman  and  his  succes- 
sors. Parsons  of  Bangor,  should  have  and  receive  all  the 
tithe  corn  and  hay  of  Worthenbury,  without  the  distur- 
bance of  Mr.  Puleston  or  his  heirs,  except  the  tithe  hay 
of  Emeral  demesne,  upon  condition  that  Dr.  Bridgman 
should,  before  the  first  of  November  following,  discharge 
the  present  minister  or  curate,  Philip  Henry,  from  the 
chapel  of  Worthenbury,  and  not  hereafter,  at  any  time, 
re-admit  him  to  oflBciate  in  the  cure.  This  is  the  sub- 
stance of  the  articles  agreed  upon  between  them,  pursuant 
to  which  Dr.  Bridgman  soon  after  dismissed  Mr.  Henry  ; 


138 


LIFE  Am  TIMES  OF 


and,  by  a  writing  under  his  hand,  which  was  published 
in  the  church  of  Worthenbury,  by  one  of  Mr.  Puleston's 
servants,  October  the  27th  follomng,  notice  was  given  to 
the  parish  of  that  dismission.  That  day,  he  preached  his 
farewell  sermon  on  Philippians  i.  27, — '  Only  let  your 
conversation  be  as  becomes  the  gospel  of  Christ.'  In  which, 
as  he  says  in  his  diary,  his  desire  and  design  was  rather 
to  profit  than  to  affect. — It  matters  not  what  becomes 
of  me, — '  whether  I  come  unto  you,  or  else  be  absent,' 
— ^but  '  let  your  conversation  be  as  becomes  the  gospel.' 
His  parting  prayer  for  them  was, — '  The  Lord,  the  God 
of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh,  set  a  man  over  the  congregation.' 
Thus  he  ceased  to  preach  to  his  poople  there,  but  he 
ceased  not  to  love  them,  and  pray  for  them  ;  and  could 
not  but  think  there  remained  still  some  relation  betwixt 
him  and  them. 

"  As  to  the  arrears  of  his  annuity  when  he  was  displaced, 
after  some  time  Mr.  Puleston  was  willing  to  give  him 
^100,  which  was  a  good  deal  less  than  what  was  duCj 
upon  condition  that  he  would  surrender  his  deed  of  an- 
nuity, and  his  lease  of  the  house,  which  he,  for  peace 
sake,  was  willing  to  do  ;  and  so  he  lost  all  the  benefit  of 
Judge  Puleston's  great  kindness  to  him.  This  was  not 
completed  till  September,  1662,  until  which  time  he 
continued  in  the  house  at  Worthenbuiy,  but  never 
preached  so  much  as  once  in  the  church,  though  there 
were  vacancies  several  times. 

Mr.  Richard  Hilton  was  immediately  put  into  the 
curacy  of  Worthenbury,  by  Dr.  Bridgman.  Mr.  Henry 
went  to  hear  him  while  he  was  at  Worthenbury,  and 
joined  in  all  the  parts  of  the  public  worship,  particularly 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


139 


attending  upon  the  sacrament  of  baptism,  not  daring, 
saith  he,  to  turn  my  back  upon  God's  ordinance,  while 
the  essentials  of  it  are  retained,  though  corrupted,  cir- 
cumstantially, in  the  administration  of  it,  which  Grod 
amend  !    Once,  being  allowed  the  liberty  of  his  gesture," 
that  is,  not  being  required  to  kneel,  "he  joined  in  the 
Lord's  supper.    He  kept  up  correspondence  with  Mr. 
Hilton,  and,  as  he  says  in  his  diarj',  endeavoured  to 
possess  him  with  right  thoughts  of  his  work,  and  ad- 
vised him  the  best  he  could  in  the  soul  affairs  of  that 
]  eople  ;  which  he  seemed  to  take  well.    I  am  sure,  he 
-Is,  I  meant  it  so,  and  the  Lord  make  him  faithful  ! 
"  Immediately  after  he  was  removed  and  silenced  at 
Worthenburj ,  he  was  solicited  to  preach  at  Bangor,  and 
Dr.  Bridgman  was  willing  to  permit  it  occasionally,  and 
intimated  to  his  curate  there,  that  he  should  never  hin- 
ler  it ;  but  Mr.  Henry  declined  it.    Though  his  silence 
s  his  great  grief,  yet,  such  was  his  tenderness,  that  he 
'.5  not  willing  so  far  to  discourage  Mr.  Hilton  at  Wor- 
'lienbury,  nor  to  draw  so  many  of  the  people  from  him, 
~  would  certainly  have  followed  him  to  Bangor. 
•  When  the  King  came  in  first,  and  showed  so  good  a 
I  aper,  as  many  thought,  some  of  his  friends  were  very 
a  nest  with  him  to  revive  his  acquaintance  and  interest 
at  court,  which  it  was  thought  he  might  easUy  do.  It 
i    was  reported  in  the  country-  that  the  Duke  of  York  had 
i    inquire^l  after  him,  but  he  heeded  not  the  report,  nor 
i   would  he  be  persuaded  to  make  any  addresses  that  way  ; 
for,  saith  he,  my  friends  do  not  know  so  well  as  I,  the 
strength  of  temptation,  and  ray  own  inability  to  deal 
with  it. 


140 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


"  He  was  greatly  affected  with  the  temptations  and 
afflictions  of  many  faithful  ministers  of  Christ  at  this 
time  by  the  pressing  of  conformity  ;  and  greatly  pitied 
some  who,  by  the  urgency  of  friends,  and  the  fear  of 
want,  were  over-persuaded  to  put  a  force  upon  themselves 
in  their  conformity.  The  Lord  keep  me,  saith  he,  in  the 
critical  time  ! 

'*  He  preached  occasionally  in  divers  neighbouring 
places,  till  Bartholomew  day,  1662  ;  the  day,  saith 
he,  which  our  sins  have  made  one  of  the  saddest 
days  to  England  since  the  death  of  Edward  VL,  but  even 
this  for  good,  though  we  knoAv  not  how,  nor  which  way. 
He  was  invited  to  preach  at  Bangor  on  the  black  Bar- 
tholomew day,  and  prepared  a  sermon  on  John  vii.  37  : 
*  In  the  last  day,  that  great  day  of  the  feast,'  &c.,  but  was 
prevented  from  preaching  it,  and  was  loath  to  strive 
against  so  strong  a  stream." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ST.  BARTHOLOMEW  ACT. 

When  Charles  II.  entered  London,  on  the  29th  of 
May,  1660,  as  he  passed  through  the  city  towards  West- 
minster, he  was  met  by  a  lai^e  body  of  the  London  min- 
isters, one  of  whom,  Mr.  Arthur  Jackson,  an  aged  and 
venerable  minister  of  the  gospel,  presented  his  Majesty 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


141 


with  a  richly  bound  Bible,  which  was  very  graciously 
received  ;  Charles  assuring  his  reverend  welcomers,  "  The 
Bible  shall  be  the  rule  of  my  government  and  of  my  life." 
How  far  either  the  public  actions  or  the  private  conduct 
of  ihe  restored  monarch  in  any  degree  coincided  with  such 
a  declaration  is  sufficiently  notorious  to  render  any  illus- 
tration of  it  unnecessarj'.  "The  King,"  says  Bishop 
Burnet,  *'  had  a  good  understanding,  and  knew  well  the 
state  of  affairs  both  at  home  and  abroad.  He  had  a  soft- 
ness of  temper  that  charmed  all  who  came  near  him,  till 
tliey  found  out  how  little  they  could  depend  on  good 
looks,  kind  words,  and  fair  promises,  in  which  he  was 
liberal  to  excess  ;  because  he  intended  nothing  by  them, 
but  to  get  rid  of  importunities.  He  seemed  to  have  no 
sense  of  religion.  He  was  no  atheist,  but  disguised  his 
Popery  to  the  last."  Such  was  the  man  on  whom  Eng- 
land had  voluntarily  conferred  the  absolute  power  it  had 
cost  her  so  many  years  of  war  and  suffering  and  blood  to 
m-est  from  his  far  more  virtuous  and  noble  father.  How 
far  more  truly  might  the  language  of  Forster  be  applied 
to  this  suicidal  act  of  England  in  restoring  the  Stuart 
heir  untrameUed  to  his  father's  throne,  than  to  that  in- 
cident to  which  he  refers,  viz,  the  dismissal  of  the  long 
parliament  by  Cromwell,  when  he  exclaimed,  "  In  that 
moment  perished  the  rights  in  whose  name  twelve  years 
of  the  miseries  of  civil  war  had  been  unrepiningly  en- 
countered, making  vain,  and  viler  than  dirt,  the  blood  of 
so  many  faithful  and  valiant  Englishmen,  who  had  left 
their  countrymen  in  the  liberty  bought  vnth  their 
Kves." 

In  a  season  of  change  hope  is  ever  present,  and  most 


142 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


SO  with  those  who  have  had  any  cause  of  dissatisfaction 
in  the  past.  On  the  accession  of  Charles  II.  many  of 
the  Puritan  clergy  anticipated  the  utmost  extent  of 
favour ;  founding  their  expectations  no  less  on  the 
gracious  promises  of  the  King,  than  on  the  favourable 
schooling  which  they  fondly  believed  his  own  adversity 
and  the  remembrance  of  his  father's  fate  were  calculated 
to  effect.  In  the  famous  declaration  of  the  King,  sent 
from  Breda,  he  assures  them,  "that  he  should  grant 
liberty  to  tender  consciences,  and  that  no  man  should 
be  questioned  for  a  difterence  of  opinion  in  matters  of 
religion,  who  did  not  disturb  the  peace  of  the  king- 
dom." This  was  engaging  to  do  no  more  than  to  carrj' 
out  the  tolerant  policy  of  Cromwell's  Protectorate. 
But  all  these  Iflattering  promises  were  made  with  the 
most  shameless  contempt  for  good  faith  or  conscience. 
Without  waiting  for  any  act  of  uniformity,  hundreds 
of  worthy  ministers  were  driven  out  from  their  churches 
and  livings  soon  after  the  King's  return.  The  colleges 
were  in  like  manner  purged  of  all  members  of  either 
university  who  had  manifested  any  zeal  for  the  prin- 
ciples and  doctrines  most  dear  to  the  Puritans,  while 
the  Puritan  clergy  speedily  saw  in  the  restoration  of 
the  bishops  to  their  sees,  with  all  the  ancient  pomp  and 
splendour  of  collegiate  establishments,  deaneries,  and 
stalls,  how  little  likelihood  there  was  that  the  tolera- 
tion of  the  Protectorate  should  be  found  by  them  un- 
der the  restored  monarchy. 

The  licentiousness  and  irreligion  of  the  people,  and 
the  open  profligacy  of  many  of  the  clergy,  which  had 
BO  entirely  disappeared  during  the  Commonwealth,  be- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


143 


gan  once  more  to  revive  under  the  influence  of  the 

I court.     Theatres  again   opened ;   Sunday-games  and 
church-holydays  with  more  of  sport  than  of  religious  ser- 
j  vices  were  revived,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  England 
i  speedily  suffered  a  sweeping  and  most  lamentable  change. 
The  clergy  were  for  a  few  weeks  after  the  restoration 
somewhat  in  fear  of  public  opinion,  and  the  whole- 
some terror  which  the  rigorous  ecclesiastical  visitations 
j   of  commissioners  had  inspired  during  the  Common- 
i   wealth.    "  But,"  says  Brook,  in  the  introduction  to  his 
I   Lives  of  the  Puritans,  "the  court  and  bishops  were 
I   now  at  ease.    The  doctrines  of  passive  obedience  and 
j   nonresistance  were  revived.    And  the  Puritans  began  to 
I   prepare  for  those  persecutions  which  presently  followed. 
I   jMr.  Crofton,  who  had  been  very  zealous  for  the  King's 
I   restoration,  for  having  written  in  favour  of  the  covenant 
I   Avas  deprived  of  his  living,  and  sent  close  prisoner  to 
the  Tower,  where  he  was  not  permitted  to  have  pen. 
ink,  or  paper.    Mr.  Parsons,  a  noted  royalist,  was  fined 
£200,  and  cast  into  prison,  for  nonconformity.  The 
celebrated  Mr.  John  Hoyve  was  committed  to  prison; 
;   and  multitudes  were  sequestered  and  prosecuted  in  the 
ecclesiastical  courts,  for  not  wearing  the  surplice  and 
observing  the  ceremonies.    These  were  powerful  indi- 
cations of  the  approaching  storm.    Mr.  Thomas  Venner, 
a  wine-cooper,  with  about  fifty  of  his  admirers,  being 
in  expectation  of  a  fifth  universal  monarchy,  under 
the  personal  reign  of  King  Jesus  upon  the  earth,  raised 
an  insun-ection  in  the  city.     But  their  mad  scheme 
was  frustrated.    Many  of  them  were  killed  in  the  con- 


144 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


test ;  and  Venner  and  some  others  were  seized,  tried, 
condemned,  and  executed. 

"Upon  Venner's  insurrection,  Mr.  KnoUys,  and  many 
other  innocent  persons,  were  dragged  to  Newgate,  where 
they  continued  eighteen  weeks.  The  rebellion  of  Ven- 
ner occasioned  a  ro^'al  proclamation,  prohibiting  all 
Anabaptists  and  other  sectaries  from  worshipping  God 
in  public,  except  at  their  parish  churches.  This  un- 
natural edict  was  another  signal  for  persecution.  Mr. 
Biddle  was  tried  at  the  public  sessions,  fineil  £lOO,  and 
cast  into  prison,  where  he  soon  after  died.  Mr.  John 
James  was  seized  in  the  pulpit,  tried,  condemned,  and 
beheaded.  His  bowels  were  then  burnt,  and  his  body 
being  quartered,  was  placed  upon  the  four  gates  of  the 
city  of  London,  and  his  head  first  upon  London  bridge, 
then  opposite  his  meeting-house  in  Bulstake  Alley." 

Such  were  the  proceedings  that  prepared  the  way  for 
that  intolerant  act,  enforced  on  the  24th  of  A.ugust,  1662, 
justly  denominated  "  The  Black  Bautholomew-day." 
"  It  was  a  day,"  says  Philip  Henry,  in  an  entry  of  his 
diary, "  famous  for  two  remarkable  events  happening  upon 
it,  and  both  fatal.  The  one,  that  day  threescore  years 
before,  fatal  to  the  church  of  France  in  the  massacre  of 
many  thousands  of  Protestants  at  Paris.  The  other,  fa- 
tal to  the  Dissenting  ministers  of  England,  near  upon 
two  thousand,  (whereof  myself  an  imworthy  one,)  who 
were  put  to  silence  on  that  day,  and  forbidden  to  preach 
the  gospel  under  severe  penalties,  because  they  would 
not,  they  durst  not,  sin  against  God." 

It  well  merits  indeed  to  be  stigmatised  as  one  of  the 
most  pefidious  and  oppressive  acts  ever  devised  by  an 


145 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


intolerant  and  irreligious  government.  It  cannot  be 
doubted  that  its  object  was  as  much  to  silence  and  eject 
conscientious  and  devout  ministers,  as  to  secure  the  absurd 
and  vain  idea  of  conformity.  Abundant  evidence  exists 
to  show  that  the  fear  amongst  many  of  the  court  part, 
was  rather  that  many  such  men  would  conform,  than 
that  so  large  a  number  would  be  silenced  and  ejected. 

Matthew  Henry,  after  entering  veiy  minutely  into  the 
reasons  for  his  father's  noncomformity,  remarks  : — "  In 
short,  it  cannot  be  wondered  at,  that  he  was  a  Noncon- 
formist, when  the  terms  of  conformity  were  so  indus- 
triously contrived  to  keep  out  of  the  church  such  men 
as  he  ;  which  is  manifested  by  the  full  account  which 
Mr.  Baxter  hath  left  to  posterity,  of  that  affair  ;  and  it 
is  a  passage  worth  noticing  here,  which  Dr.  Bates,  in  his 
funeral  sermon  on  Mr.  Baxter,  relates  ;  that  when  the 
Lord  Chamberlain  Manchester  told  the  King,  while  the 
Act  of  Uniformity  was  under  debate,  that  he  was  afraid 
that  the  terms  were  so  hard,  that  many  of  the  ministers 
would  not  comply  with  them.  Bishop  Sheldon,  being 
present,  replied,  '  I  am  afraid  they  will.'  And  it  is  well 
known  how  many  of  the  most  sober,  pious,  and  laborious 
ministers,  in  all  parts  of  the  nation.  Conformists  as  well 
as  Nonconfonnists,  did  dislike  thq^e  impositions. 

lie  thought  it  a  mercy,  since  it  must  be  so,  that  the 
case  of  nonconformity  was  made  so  clear  as  it  was,  abun- 
dantly to  satisfy  him  in  his  silence  and  sufferings.  I 
have  heard  that  Mr.  Anthony  Burges,  who  hesitated  be- 
fore, when  he  read  the  Act,  blessed  God  that  the  matter 
was  put  out  of  doubt.  And  yet,  to  make  sure  work,  the 
printing  and  publishing  of  the  new  Book  of  Common 
S 


146 


LIFE  /fND  TIMES  OF 


Prayer  was  so  deferred,  that  few  of  the  ministers,  except 
those  in  London,  could  possibly  get  a  sight  of  it,  much 
less  duly  consider  of  it,  before  the  time  prefixed  ;  which 
Mr.  Steel  took  notice  of  in  iiis  Farewell  Sermon  at  Han- 
mer,  August  17,  1662, — that  he  was  silenced  and  turned 
out  for  not  declaring  his  unfeigned  assent  and  co7isent  to 
a  book  which  he  never  saio  nor  cotdd  see. 

"  One  thing  which  he  comforted  himself  with  in  his 
nonconformity  was,  that  as  to  matters  of  '  doubtful  dis- 
putation' touching  church  government,  ceremonies,  and 
the  like,  he  was  unsworn,  either  on  one  side  or  the  other, 
and  so  was  free  from  those  snares  and  bands  in  which 
so  many  find  themselves  tied  up  from  what  they  would 
do,  and  entangled  that  they  know  not  what  to  do.  He 
was  one  of  those  that '  feared  an  oath,'  and  would  often 
say, — Oaths  are  edged  tools,  and  not  to  be  played  with. 
One  passage  I  find  in  liis  papers,  which  confirmed  him 
in  this  satisfaction  ;  it  is  a  letter  from  no  less  a  clergy- 
man than  Dr.  Fowler,  of  Whitchurch  to  one  of  his 
parishioners,  who  desired  him  to  give  way  that  his  child 
might  be  baptized  by  another  without  the  cross  and  god- 
fathers, if  he  would  not  do  it  so  himself  ;  both  which  he 
refused  :  it  was  in  the  year  1672-3.  '  For  my  part,  said 
the  Doctor,  I  freely  profess  my  thoughts,  that  the  strict 
urging  of  indifferent  ceremonies  hath  done  more  harm 
than  good  ;  and,  possibly,  had  all  men  been  left  to  their 
liberty  therein,  there  might  have  been  much  more  unity, 
and  not  much  less  uniformity.  But  what  power  have 
I  to  dispense  with  myself,  being  now  under  the  obli- 
gation of  a  law  and  an  oath  ?"  And  he  concludes,  I 
am  much  grieved  at  the  unhap;jy  condition  of  myself 


THE  REV.  PHIUP  HENRY. 


147 


and  other  ministers,  who  must  either  lose  their  parish- 
ioners' love,  if  they  do  not  comply  with  them,  or  else 
break  their  solemn  obligations  to  please  them." 

"  This,  he  would  say,  was  the  mischief  of  impositions, 
which  ever  were,  and  ever  will  be,  bones  of  contention. 
While  he  was  at  Worthenbury,  though  in  the  Lord's 
supper  he  used  the  gesture  of  sitting  himseli^  yet  he  ad- 
ministered it  without  scruple  to  some  who  chose  rather 
to  kneel  ;  and  he  thought  that  ministers'  hands  should 
not,  in  such  things,  be  tied  up  ;  but  that  he  ought,  in 
his  place,  though  he  suffered  for  it,  to  witness  against 
the  making  of  those  things  the  indispensable  terms  of 
communion,  which  Jesus  Christ  hath  not  made  to  be  so. 
*  Where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord/  and  the  spirit  of  the 
gospel  is, '  there  is  liberty.' 

"  Such  as  these  were  the  reasons  of  his  nonconformity, 
which,  as  long  as  he  lived,  he  was  more  and  more  con- 
firmed in. 

"  His  moderation  in  his  nonconformity  was  very  ex- 
emplary and  eminent,  and  had  a  great  influence  upon 
many,  to  keep  them  from  running  into  an  uncharitable 
and  schismatical  separation  ;  which,  upon  all  occasions, 
he  bore  his  testimony  against,  and  was  very  industrious 
to  stem  the  tide  of.  In  church  government,  that  which 
he  desired  and  wished  for  was  Archbishop  Usher's  re- 
duction of  episcopacy.  He  thought  it  lawful  to  join  in 
the  Common  Prayer  in  public  assemblies,  and  practised 
accordingly,  and  endeavoured  to  satisfy  others  concerning 
it.  The  spirit  he  was  of  was  such  as  made  him  much  afraid 
of  extremes,  and  solicitous  for  nothing  more  than  to  main- 
tain and  keep  Christian  love  and  charity  among  profes- 


148 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


sors.  We  shall  meet  with  several  instances  of  this  in  the 
progress  of  his  story,  and  therefore  wave  it  here.  I  have 
been  told  of  an  aged  minister  of  his  acquaintance,  who, 
being  asked  upon  his  deathbed,  what  liis  thoughts  were 
of  his  nonconformity,  replied,  he  was  well  satisfied  in 
it,  and  should  not  have  conformed  so  far  as  he  did,  viz., 
to  join  in  the  liturgy,  if  it  had  not  been  for  Mr.  Henry. 
Thus  was  his  moderation  kno\vn  unto  all  men." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

EEMOVAL  TO  BROAD  OAK. 


Philip  Henby  had  laboured  fully  nine  years  in 
the  parish  over  which  he  was  ordained  to  the  office 
of  a  minister,  when  the  infamous  Act  of  Uniformity 
of  Charles's  restoration-government  put  an  end  to  the 
ministrations  of  this  faithful  and  zealous  pastor  of  the 
flock.  "At  Michaelmas,  1662,"  says  his  son,  "  he  quitted 
Worthenbury,  and  came  with  his  &mily  to  Broad  Oak, 
just  nine  years  from  his  first  coming  into  the  country. 
Being  cast  by  Divine  Providence  into  this  new  place 
and  state  of  life,  his  care  and  prayer  was — that  he 
might  have  grat;e  and  wisdom  to  manage  it  to  the 
glory  of  God,  which,  saith  he,  is  my  chief  end.  Within 
three  weeks  after  his  coming  hither,  his  second  son 
waa  bom,  which  we  mention  for  the  sake  of  the  re- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


149 


mark  he  has  upon  it. — We  have  no  reason,  saith  he, 
to  call  him  Benoni,  I  vnsh  we  had  none  to  call  him 
Ichabod.  And  on  the  day  of  his  family-thanksgi-ving 
for  that  mercy,  he  writes, — We  have  reason  to  rejoice 
with  trembling,  for  it  goes  ill  with  the  church  and  peo- 
ple of  God,  and  reason  to  fear  worse  because  of  our  own 
sins,  and  our  enemies'  wrath."  This  son  whose  birth 
is  thus  slightly  noticed,  was  none  other  than  the  au- 
thor of  his  pious  father's  life,  the  illustrious  divine, 
Matthew  Henry,  who  was  born  at  Broad  Oak,  on  the 
18th  of  October,  1662. 

"  For  several  years  after  he  came  to  live  at  Broad  Oak, 
he  went  constantly  on  Lord's  days  to  public  worship, 
with  his  family,  at  Whitewell  chapel,  which  is  hard  by, 
if  there  were  any  supply  there,  as  sometimes  there  was 
from  Mai  pas  ;  and  if  none,  then  to  Tylstock,  where  Mr. 
Zachary  Thomas  continued  for  about  half  a  year,  and 
the  place  was  a  little  sanctuary  ;  and  when  that  failed, 
usually  to  Whitchurch.  He  did  not  preach  for  a 
great  while,  unless  occasionally,  when  he  visited  his 
friends,  or  to  his  own  family  on  Lord's  days,  when  the 
weather  hindered  them  from  going  abroad.  He  com- 
forted himself,  that  sometimes  in  going  to  public  worship, 
he  had  au  opportunity  of  instructing  and  exhorting 
those  that  were  in  company  with  him,  by  the  way,  ac- 
cording as  he  saw  they  had  need  ;  and  in  this  his  '  lips 
fed  many,'  and  his  '  tongue  was  as  choice  silver ; '  and  he 
acted  according  to  that  rule  wliich  he  often  laid  down  to 
himself  and  others, — That,  when  we  cannot  do  what  we 
would,  we  must  do  what  we  can,  and  the  Lord  will  ac- 
cept us  in  it.    He  made  the  best  of  the  seraions  he  heard 


150 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


in  public. — It  is  a  mercy,  saith  he,  we  have  bread,  though 
it  be  not,  as  it  hath  been,  of  the  finest  of  the  wheat. 
Those  are  froward  children  who  throw  away  the  meat 
they  have,  if  it  be  wholesome,  because  they  have  not 
what  they  would  have.  When  he'  met  with  preaching 
that  was  weak,  his  note  is, — That  is  a  poor  sermon  in- 
deed, out  of  which  no  good  lesson  may  be  learned.  He 
had  often  occasion  to  remember  that  verse  of  Mr.  Her- 
bert's : — 

*  The  worst  speaks  something  good ;  if  all  -want  sense, 
God  takes  the  text,  and  preacheth  patience.' 

"  Such,  then,  were  his  sentiments  of  things,  expecting 
that  God  would  yet  open  a  door  of  return  to  former 
public  liberty,  wliich  he  much  desired  and  prayed  for  ; 
and  in  hopes  of  that,  he  was  backward  to  fall  into  the 
stated  exercise  of  his  ministry  otherwise,  as  were  the 
sober  Nonconformists  generally  in  those  parts,  but  it  was 
his  grief  and  burden  that  he  had  not  an  opportunity  of 
doing  more  for  God.  He  had  scarce  one  talent  of 
opportunity,  but  that  one  he  was  very  diligent  and 
faithful  in  improving.  When  he  visited  his  friends, 
how  did  he  lay  out  himself  to  do  them  good  !  Being 
asked  once,  where  he  made  a  visit,  to  expound  and  pray, 
for  which  his  friends  returned  liim  thanks,  he  thus  writes 
upon  it ; — They  cannot  thank  me  so  much  for  my  pains, 
but  I  thank  them  more,  and  my  Lord  God  especially, 
for  the  opportimity.  Read  his  conflict  with  himself  at 
this  time  ; — I  own  myself  a  minister  of  Christ,  yet  do 
nothing  as  a  minister.  What  will  excuse  me  ?  Is  it 
enough  for  me  to  say,  '  Behold,  I  stand  in  the  market- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


151 


place,  and  no  man  hath  hired  me  1 '  And  he  comforts 
himself  with  this  appeal ; — Lord,  thou  knowest  what 
will  I  have  to  thy  work,  public  or  private,  if  I  had  a 
call  and  opportunity.  And  shall  this  willing  mind  be 
accepted  ?  Surely  this  is  a  melancholy  consideration, 
and  lays  great  blame  somewhere,  that  such  a  man  as 
Mr,  Philip  Henry,  so  well  qualified  with  gifts  and 
graces  for  ministerial  work,  and  in  the  prime  of  his 
years  for  usefulness  ;  so  sound  and  orthodox,  so  humble 
and  modest,  so  quiet  and  peaceable,  so  pious  and  blame- 
less ;  should  be  thrust  out  of  the  vineyard,  a3  a  useless 
and  unprofitable  servant,  and  laid  aside  as  a  '  despised 
broken  vessel,  and  a  vessel  in  which  ther§  was  no  plea- 
sure.' This  is  a  lamentable  thing  ;  especially,  since  it 
was  not  his  case  alone,  but  the  lot  of  so  many  hundreds 
of  the  same  character." 

Such  was  the  gentle,  amiable,  forbearing,  and  truly 
tolerant  character  of  this  great  and  good  man,  this  gen- 
uine disciple  of  his  heavenly  Master,  whom  the  blind 
bigotry  and  vicious  policy  of  Charles  II.,  and  his  advisers, 
compelled  to  separate  from  the  church,  thrust  out  from 
the  ministry,  and  threatened  with  pains  and  penalties, 
with  fines,  imprisonments,  and  personal  cruelty,  should 
he  proclaim  to  his  attached  people  that  life  and  immor- 
tality which  is  brought  to  light  by  the  gospel,  and  which 
so  many  of  them  had  learned  for  the  first  time  from  his 
lips. 


162 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HOSPITALITIES  OF  BROAD  OAK 

We  have  already  described  the  early  attachment  that 
sprung  up  between  Philip  Henry,  and  the  daughter  and 
heiress  of  Mr.  Matthews  of  Broad  Oak,  with  their  mar- 
riage, notwithstanding  the  opposition  of  her  father.  Mr. 
Matthews,  as  we  have  seen,  was  reconciled  to  their  union 
after  a  time,  .and  so  wholly  withdrew  his  unfavourable 
regard  for  Henry,  that  he  settled  a  considerable  portion 
of  his  estate  on  the  young  couple  at  their  marriage  ;  and 
on  his  death,  a  few  years  after,  left  his  entire  wealth  to 
the  happy  pair  whose  affections  so  heartily  bound  up  in 
each  other,  present  to  us  one  of  the  most  delightful  pic- 
tures of  wedded  joy,  and  of  the  perfect  union  of  kindred 
hearts.  When  the  edict  of  Bartholomew-day  banished 
Philip  Henry  from  his  pulpit  and  his  people,  the  inheri- 
tance of  Broad  Oak,  which  had  thus  descended  to  him, 
supplied  such  a  home  as  was  rare  indeed  among  the 
ejected  ministers  of  the  restoration  ;  and  enabled  liim  to 
manifest  much  of  that  love  and  sympathy  towards  his 
less  fortunate  brethren,  which  so  entirely  consisted  with 
his  gentle  and  truly  Christian  character. 

"  There  were  many  able  ministers  thereabout,"  says  his 
son,  "turned  out, both  from  work  and  subsistence,  that  had 
not  such  comfortable  support  as  Mr.  Henry  had,  for  whom 
he  was  most  affectionately  concerned^  and  to  whom  he 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


153 


howed  kindness.  There  were  computed,  within  a  few 
niles  round  him,  so  many  ministers  turned  out  to  the  wide 
vorld,  stripped  of  all  their  maintenance,  and  exposed  to 
continual  hardships,  as  with  their  wives  and  children, 
laving  most  of  them  numerous  families,  made  up  above 
1.  hundred,  dependant  on  Providence  ;  and,  though  oft 
•educed  to  want  and  straitSj  yet  they  were  not  forsaken, 
mt  were  enabled  to  '  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  and  to  joy  in 
he  God  of  their  salvation,'  notwithstanding.  The  world 
vvas  told  long  since,  in  the  *  Conformist's  Plea,'  that  the 
vorthy  Mr.  Lawrence,  Mr.  Henry's  intimate  friend,  when 
le  was  turned  out  of  Baschurch,  if  lie  would  have  con- 
ulted  with  flesh  and  blood,  having,  as  was  said  of  one  of 
he  martyrs,  eleven  good  arguments  against  suffering, 
a  wife  and  ten  children,  was'  asked  how  he  meant 
.  maintain  them  all,  and  cheerfully  replied, — They 
must  all  live  on  the  sixth  of  Matthew,  '  Take  no  thought 
for  yom-  life,  &c.'  Mr.  Henry  has  noted  concerning  him 
n  his  diary,  some  time  after  he  was  turned  out, — That 
he  bore  witness  to  the  love  and  care  of  our  Heavenly 
Father,  providing  ^r  him,  and  his  present  condition,  be- 
yond expectation. 

One  observation  Mr.  Heniy  made  not  long  before  he 
,  died, — That,  though  many  of  the  ejected  ministers  were 
I  brought  very  low,  had  many  children,  were  greatly 
i  harassed  by  persecution,  and  their  friends  generally  poor 
;  and  unable  to  support  them  ;  yet  in  all  his  acquaintance, 
he  never  knew,  nor  could  remember  to  have  heard  of, 
iny  Nonconformist  minicter  in  prison  for  debt." 

To  these  Sir  J.  B.  Williams  has  added  the  following 
observations  by  Philip  Henry,  from  the  original  papers 


154  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 

still  preserved,  and  many  of  which  are  now  in  the  na- 
tional collections  among  the  treasures  of  the  British 
Museum ; — so  different  is  the  estimation  of  the  good 
man's  memory,  from  that  which  his  virtues  excited 
among  the  statesmen  of  his  own  day  :  It  is  obvious, 
that  at  four  several  times,  and  upon  four  several  occa- 
sions, ministers  have  been  silenced  and  turned  out  of 
their  places  ;  and  yet  still,  after  a  time,  more  or  less  re- 
stored again. 

"1.  In  Queen  Mary's  days, — because  they  would  not 
close  with  Popery  at  the  return  of  it.  But  that  interdict 
lasted  under  five  years,  being  taken  off  upon  Queen 
Elizabeth's  coming  to  the  throne. 

"2.  In  Queen  Elizabeth's,  King  James's  and  King 
Charles's  days, — because  they  could  not  conform  to  the 
hierarchy  and  ceremonies  ;  and  this  interdict  lasted  long, 
even  till  the  long  parliament,  a.d.  1640  ;  but  it  was 
then  taken  off. 

"  3.  Under  the  long  parliament  many  ministers  were 
sequestered  and  silenced  for  malignancy,  and  not  cove- 
nanting. 

"  4.  Many  others,  after  the  King's  death,  for  not  en- 
gaging to  be  true  to  the  Commonwealth,  as  then  estab- 
lished ;  both  which  restraints,  though  much  remitted 
before,  yet  quite  ceased  at  the  coming  in  of  the  King, 
A.D."  1660. 

"  And  now  more  ministers  are  silenced,  and  with  more 
severity  than  ever,  by  the  Act  of  August  24.  And  who 
among  us  can  tell  for  how  long  ?  This  only  I  know — 
'  He  who  hath  delivered,  doth  deliver.'  Script.  March 
31,  1663." 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


155 


Neither  the  better  worldly  circumstances  of  this  good 
man,  however,  nor  his  gentle  and  accomodating  virtues, 
and  exemplary  moderation  and  consistency,  could  sliield 
him  from  a  share  in  the  trials  and  sufferings  to  which 
all  conscientious  Nonconformists  were  then  exposed. 
"  In  October,  1663,"  \NTites  his  son,  "  Mr  Steel,  Mr. 
Henry,  and  some  other  of  their  friends,  were  taken  up 
and  brought  prisoners  to  Hanmer,  under  pretence  of  some 
plot  said  to  be  on  foot  against  the  government :  and  there 
they  were  kept  under  confinement  some  days,  on  which 
he  writes  ; — '  It  is  sweet  being  in  any  condition  with  a 
clear  conscience.  The  sting  of  death  is  sin,  and  so 
of  imprisonment  also.  It  is  the  first  time  I  was 
ever  a  prisoner,  but  perhaps  may  not  be  the  last.  We 
felt  no  hardship,  but  we  know  not  what  we  may.'  They 
were,  after  some  days,  examined  by  the  Deputy  Lieuten- 
ants, charged  with  they  knew  not  what,  and  so  dismissed, 
finding  verbal  security  to  be  forthcoming  upon  twenty- 
four  hours'  notice,  whenever  they  should  be  called  for. 
Mr  Henry  returned  home  with  thanksgivings  to  God,  and 
a  hearty  prayer  for  his  enemies,  that  God  would  forgive 
them.  The  very  next  day  after  they  were  released,  a 
great  man  in  the  countrj-,  at  whose  instigation  they 
were  brought  into  that  trouble,  died,  as  was  said,  of  a 
drunken  surfeit.*  '  So  that  a  man  shall  say, — Yerily 
there  is  a  God  that  judgeth  in  the  earth.' 

"  In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1665,  when  the  Act  for 
a  Royal  Aid,  to  His  Majesty,  of  two  millions  and  a  half, 
came  out,  the  Commissioners  for  Flintshire  nominated 

•  Sir  J.  E.  Williams  adds,  among  his  careful  annotations,  that  "  Sir  Evan 
Lloyd,  Governor  of  Giester,  is  the  person  here  referred  to.  His  death  oo- 
cuired,  October  15, 1663." 


166 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


Mr.  Henry  sub-collector  of  the  said  tax  for  the  township 
of  Iscoyd,  and  Mr.  Steel  for  the  township  of  Hanmer. 
They  intended  thereby  to  put  an  affront  and  disparage- 
ment upon  their  ministry,  and  to  show  that  they  looked 
upon  them  but  as  laymen.  His  note  upon  it  is, — It  is 
not  a  sin  which  they  put  us  upon,  but  it  is  a  cross,  and  a 
cross  in  our  way,  and,  therefore,  to  be  taken  up  and  borne 
with  patience.  When  I  had  better  work  to  do,  I  was 
wanting  in  my  duty  about  it,  and  now  this  is  put  upon 
me  ;  the  Lord  is  righteous.  He  procured  the  gathering 
of  it  by  others,  only  took  account  of  it,  and  saw  it  duly 
done  ;  and  deserved,  as  he  said  he  hoped  he  should,  that 
inscription  mentioned  in  Suetonius,  KaXtis  reXcuvr^o-a'/n, 
— To  the  merooi-y  of  an  honest  publican. 

"  In  September,  the  same  year,  he  was  again,  by  war- 
rant from  the  Deputy  Lieutenant,  brought  prisoner  to 
Hanmer,  as  was  also  Mr.  Steel  and  others.  He  was  ex- 
amined about  private  meetings.  Some  such,  but  private 
indeed,  he  owned  he  had  been  present  at  of  late,  in  Shrop- 
shire, but  the  occasion  was  extraordinary  ;  the  plague 
was  at  that  time  raging  in  London,  and  he,  and  several 
of  his  friends,  having  near  relations  there,  thought  it 
time  to  seek  the  Lord  for  them,  and  this  was  imputed  to 
him  as  a  crime.  He  was  likewise  charged  with  adminis- 
tering the  Lord's  supper,  which  he  denied,  having  never 
administered  it  since  he  was  disabled  by  the  Act  of  Uni- 
formity. After  some  days'  confinement,  seeing  they  could 
prove  nothing  against  him,  he  was  discharged  upon  re- 
cognizance of  £20,  with  two  sureties,  to  be  forthcom- 
ing upon  notice,  and  to  live  peaceably.  —  But,  says 
he,  our  restraint  was  not  strict,  for  we  had  liberty 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


157 


of  prayer  and  conference  together,  to  our  mutual  edi- 
fication." 

These  examples  are  sufficient  to  show  how  many  har- 
assing and  cruel  persecutions  the  faithful  servants  of 
Christ  were  subjected  to  at  that  period.  The  government 
felt  that  they  had  heaped  on  them  grievous  m-ongs,  and 
therefore  reasoned  from  their  own  impure  impulses  that 
the  sufferers  must  be  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  be 
avenged.  To  this  we  must  ascribe,  to  some  extent,  the 
mean  jealousy  which,  in  so  many  ways,  manifested  itself 
in  irritating  persecutions  of  the  Nonconformist  clergy.  Of 
these,  t]ie  following  are  sufficiently  characteristic  ex- 
amples : 

"  It  was  but  a  little  before  this,  that  Mr.  Steel,  setting 
out  for  London,  was,  by  a  warrant  from  the  justices, 
under  colour  of  the  report  of  a  plot,  stopped  and  searched, 
and,  finding  nothing  to  accuse  him  of,  they  seized  his 
almanac,  in  which  he  kept  his  diary  for  that  year ;  and, 
it  not  being  written  very  legibly,  they  made  what  mali- 
cious readings  and  comments  they  pleased  upon  it,  to  his 
great  wrong  and  reproach  ;  though,  to  all  sober  and  sen- 
sible people,  it  discovered  him  to  be  a  man  that  kept  a 
strict  watch  over  liis  own  heart,  and  was  a  great  husband 
of  his  time,  and  many  said  they  got  good  by  it,  and  should 
love  him  the  better  for  it.  This  event  made  Mr.  Henry 
somewhat  more  cautious  and  sparing  in  the  records  of 
his  diary,  when  he  saw  how  '  evil  men  dig  up  mischief.'  " 

The  treatment  of  the  Nonconformist  ministers  con- 
tinued to  be  characterized  by  the  same  oppressive  and  most 
junjust  restraints,  during  the  whole  reign  of  Charles  II. 
Various  successive  enactments  were  passed,  adding  still 


158 


LITE  AND  TIMES  OP 


more  grievously  to  their  burdens  and  restraints,  and  in- 
cluding thp  hearers  as  well  as  the  preachers  at  all  Non- 
conformist assemblies  within  the  compass  of  inquisitorial 
and  despotic  statutes,  by  which  they  became  liable  to  im- 
prisonment, heavy  fines,  and  banishment  to  perpetual 
bondage  in  the  American  plantations.  Nothing  but  the 
diversity  of  sentiment  among  the  various  classes  of  suf- 
ferers can  account  for  the  endurance  for  so  long  of  such 
intolerable  tyranny.  How  mournfully  must  many  of 
the  sufferers  have  looked  back  to  the  tolerance,  and 
the  encouragement  of  virtue  and  piety,  which  the  Pro- 
tectorate government  of  Cromwell  established  and  fos- 
tered. Calamy  remarks,  in  his  "  Brief  History  of  the 
Times  :" 

"The  ejected  ministers  continued  for  ten  years  in  a 
state  of  silence  and  obscurit3^  It  was  their  aim  and  en- 
deavour to  be  found  in  the  way  of  their  duty  to  God  and 
the  King  ;  but  they  could  not  be  suffered  to  live  in  peace, 
Such  was  the  policy  of  the  court,  that  they  must  either 
be  crushed  by  their  fellow  Protestants,  or  if  favoured 
with  any  connivance,  they  must  have  the  Papists  part- 
ners with  them,  that  so  the  Protestant  interest  might  be 
that  way  weakened.  The  Act  of  UnifoiTnity  took  place 
August  24th,  1662.  On  the  26th  of  December  follow- 
ing, the  King  published  a  declaration,  expressing  his 
purpose  to  grant  some  indulgence  or  liberty  in  religion, 
not  excluding  the  Papists,  many  of  whom,  he  said,  had 
deserved  so  well  of  him.  Some  of  the  Nonconformists 
were  hereupon  much  encouraged,  and  waiting  privately 
on  the  King,  had  their  hopes  confirmed,  and  would  have 
persuaded  their  brethren  to  have  thanked  the  King  for 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


159 


his  declaration ;  but  they  refused,  lest  they  should  make 
way  for  the  toleration  of  the  Papists.  The  declaration 
took  not  at  all,  either  with  parliament  or  people  ;  and  so 
the  poor  Nonconformists  were  exposed  to  great  severities. 
They  who  at  the  King's  coming  in  were  so  much  caressed, 
were  now  treated  with  the  utmost  contempt.  The 
silenced  ministers  were  not  only  forbidden  to  preach  in 
public,  but  were  so  carefully  watched,  in  private,  that 
they  could  not  meet  to  pray  together,  but  it  was  a  sedi- 
tious conventicle.  Mr.  Baxter  and  Dr.  Bates  were  de- 
sired to  be  at  Mr.  Beale's,  in  Hatton  Garden,  to  pray  for 
his  wife,  who  was  dangerously  ill.  Through  some  other 
necessary  occb,sions,  they  failed  of  being  there,  and  if  they 
had  not,  they  had  been  apprehended  ;  for  two  justices  of 
the  peace  came  with  a  serjeant-at-arms  to  seize  them, 
and  searched  the  house,  and  even  the  sick  gentlewoman's 
chamber.  Many  excellent  ministers  quickly  after  were 
laid  in  gaols  in  many  counties,  for  the  heavy  crime  of 
preaching  and  praying. 

"  In  June,  1663,  the  old  peaceable  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, Dr.  Juxon,  died,  and  Dr.  Sheldon,  Bishop  of 
London  succeeded  him.    About  that  time,  there  was  a 
fresh  report  of  liberty  for  the  silenced  ministers.  They 
were  blamed  by  many,  for  not  petitioning  the  parlia- 
■r  ment,  though  they  had  reason  enough  against  it.  Many 
ii  members  encouraged  the  expectation  of  either  an  indul- 
i  gence  or  a  comprehension  ;  and  it  was  warmly  debated 
\  which  of  the  two  would  be  more  desirable.    Some  were 
1  for  petitioning  for  a  general  indulgence,  but  others  de- 
j  clared  they  would  suflfer  any  thing  rather  than  promote 


160 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


"  Mr.  Baxter,  when  consulted  by  a  person  of  distinction, 
declared  for  a  comprehension.  But  instead  of  indulgence 
or  comprehension,  on  the  30th  of  June  the  act  against 
private  meetings,  called  the  Conventicle  Act,  passed  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  soon  after  was  made  a  law,  viz. : 
'  that  every  person  above  sixteen  years  of  age,  present  at 
any  meeting  under  pretence  of  any  exercise  of  religion, 
in  other  manner  than  is  the  practice  of  the  Church  of 
England,  where  there  are  five  persons  more  than  the 
household,  shall  for  the  first  offence,  by  a  justice  of  peace 
be  recorded,  and  sent  to  gaol  three  months,  till  he  pay 
£5  ;  and  for  the  second  offence  six  months,  till  he  pay 
£10  :  and  the  third  time,  being  convicted  by  a  jury,  shall 
be  banished  to  some  of  the  American  plantations,  ex- 
cepting New  England  or  Virginia.'  It  was  a  great  hard- 
ship attending  this  act,  that  it  gave  so  much  power  to 
justices  of  the  peace  to  record  a  man  an  ofiender  without 
a  jury ;  and  if  they  did  it  without  a  cause,  there  was  no 
remedy,  seeing  every  justice  was  made  a  judge.  Before, 
the  dangers  and  sufferings  lay  on  the  ministers  only,  but 
now  the  people  also  were  sorely  tried." 

Such  were  the  sufferings  imposed  by  an  ungodly  and 
licentious  court  on  the  most  peaceable  and  virtuous  mem- 
bers of  the  community.  "When  we  consider  all  that  the 
nation  had  undergone  for  the  security  of  their  just  liber- 
ties, and  remember  the  circumstances  under  which 
Charles  II.  was  restored  to  the  throne,  it  cannot  admit  of 
a  doubt,  that  the  wrongs  and  cruelties  inflicted  in  his 
reign  on  the  Nonconformists  of  England  afitbrd  an  exam- 
ple of  perfidy  and  faithless  oppression,  which  presents  a 
more  disgraceful  page  of  English  history  even  than  the 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY 


161 


dreadful  era  of  bloody  Mary's  reign,  when  the  fires  of 
Smithfield  were  rekindled,  and  the  martyrs  passed  through 
fiery  torture  to  their  "exceeding  great  reward."  The 
spirit  that  actuated  both  persecutors  was  the  same,  but 
the  narrow-minded  bigotryof  the  daughter  of  Henry  VIII. 
in  her  fidelity  to  the  persecuting  creed  of  the  intolerant 
Church  of  Rome,  is  far  less  base  than  the  peijury  of  the 
licentious  voluptuary,  Charles  Stuart,  who  had  not  even 
the  poor  apology  of  fanaticism  for  his  contempt  for  every 
principle  inculcated  by  justice  or  gratitude,  and  every 
lesson  taught  him  by  adversity. 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

THE  OXFORD  ACT. 

The  old  proverb  which  the  sacred  penman  records — 
The  wicked  fleeth  when  no  man  pursueth," — is  illus- 
trated in  a  very  striking  manner  by  the  successive  acts 
enforced  by  the  restoration-government,  against  the  Non- 
conformists, whom  they  had  so  cruelly  wronged.  The 
scriptural  maxim,  "as  much  as  in  you  lies,  live  peace- 
ably with  all  men,"  was  acted  up  to  by  these  sufferers  for 
conscience'  sake,  under  a  persecution  that  might  have 
justified  any  amount  of  opposition.  Nevertheless,  the 
government  never  wearied  of  devising  fresh  restraints^ 
still  more  intolerable  and  iniquitous. 

L 


162 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


It  reflects  additional  infamy  on  the  government  of 
that  period,  that  it  was  the  disinterested  zeal  and  self- 
denying  courage  of  those  faithful  ministers,  during  a  time 
of  peculiar  danger,  and  when  those  who  had  supplanted 
them  fled  in  terror  from  the  post  of  duty,  which  led  to  the 
imposition  of  more  intolerable  burdens  by  the  government. 
They  won  their  honours  as  faithful  soldiers  of  the  cross, 
in  the  high  places  of  the  field  ;  and  we  doubt  not  they  have 
also  entered  on  the  enjoyment  of  that  inheritance  which 
the  Captain  of  their  salvation  purchased  and  secui'ed  for 
them  with  his  blood. 

Calamy  remarks  in  his  "  Brief  History  of  the  Times  :" 
"  In  the  year  1665,  the  plague  broke  out,  which  carried 
off  about  100,000  persons  in  the  city  of  London.  The 
ejected  ministers  had  till  this  time  preached  very  pri- 
vately, and  but  to  a  few  ;  but  now,  when  the  ministers  in 
the  city  churches  fled,  and  left  their  flocks  in  the  time  of 
their  extremity,  several  of  them  pitying  the  dying  and 
distressed  people,whohadnonetohelpthemto  prepare  for 
another  world,  nor  to  comfort  them  in  their  terrors, 
when  about  10,000  died  in  a  week,  were  convinced  that 
no  obedience  to  the  laws  of  man  could  justify  their  ne- 
glecting men's  souls  and  bodies  in  such  extremities. 
Thereupon,  they  resolved  to  stay  with  them,  enter  the 
forsaken  pulpits,  and  give  them  what  assistance  they 
were  able,  under  such  an  awakening  providence  ;  visit 
the  sick,  and  get  what  relief  they  could  for  the  poor,  es- 
pecially such  as  were  shut  up.  The  persons  that  set 
about  this  work  were  Mr.  T.  Vincent,  Mr.  Chester,  Mr. 
Janeway,  Mr.  Turner,  Mr.  Grimes,  Mr.  Franklin,  and 
some  others.    The  face  of  death  so  awakened  preachers 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


163 


and  hearers,  that  the.  former  exceeded  themselves  in 
lively  fervent  preaching,  and  the  latter  heard  with  a  pe- 
culiar ardour  and  attention.  And  through  the  blessing 
of  God,  many  were  converted,  and  religion  took  such 
hold  on  their  hearts,  that  it  could  never  afterwards  be 
loosed. 

"  Whilst  God  was  consuming  the  people  by  this  judg- 
ment, and  the  Nonconformists  were  labouring  to  save 
their  souls,  the  parliament,  which  sat  at  Oxford,  was 
busy  in  making  an  act  to  render  their  case  incomparably 
harder  than  it  was  before,  by  putting  upon  them  a  cer- 
tain oath,  which  if  they  refused,  they  must  not  come — 
unless  upon  the  road — within  five  miles  of  any  city  or 
corporation,  any  place  that  sent  burgesses  to  parliament, 
any  place  where  they  had  been  ministers,  or  had  preached 
after  the  act  of  oblivion.  The  main  promoters  of  this 
act  among  the  clergy  were  Archbishop  Sheldon,  and 
Bishop  Ward  ;  and  though  some  vehemently  opposed 
it,  the  Lord  Chancellor  Hyde  and  his  party  carried  it. 
Wl\en  this  act  came  out,  those  ministers  who  had  any 
maintenance  of  then-  own,  found  out  some  dwellings  in 
obscure  villages,  or  in  some  few  market-towns  that  were 
not  coi-porations.  Some  who  had  notliing,  left  their  wives 
md  children,  and  hid  themselves  abroad,  and  sometimes 
came  secretly  to  them  by  night.  But  the  most,  resolved 
to  preach  the  more  freely  in  cities  and  corporations  till 
they  went  to  prison.  Their  straits  w^ere  great,  for  the 
country  was  so  impoverished,  that  those  who  were  willing 
bo  relieve  them,  had  generally  no  great  ability.  And 
^et  God  did  mercifully  provide  some  supplies  for  them  ; 
io  that  scai-ce  any  of  them  perished  for  want,  or  were  ex- 


164 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


posed  to  sordid  beggarj-  ;  but  some  few  were  tempted, 
against  their  former  judgments,  to  conform.  The  Non- 
conformists being  charged  in  this  new  act,  with  seditious 
doctrines  and  heinous  crimes,  many  were  much  con- 
cerned ;  and  hereupon  endeavoured  to  find  out  a  sense  in 
which  the  oath  might  be  taken  safely,  to  prevent  their 
passing  under  that  brand  to  posterity.  Dr.  Bates  consulted 
the  Lord  Keeper  Bridgman  about  it ;  who  promised  to  be 
at  the  next  sessions,  and  on  the  bench  to  declare  openly, 
that  by  endeavour,  in  the  oath,  to  change  church  govern- 
ment, was  meant  only  unlawful  endeavour.  Upon  which 
declaration,  he  and  other  Nonconformists,  to  the  number 
of  twenty,  took  it.  This  year  orders  were  sent  from  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury  to  the  several  bishops  of  his 
province,  that  they  should  make  a  return  of  the  names 
of  all  ejected  Nonconformist  ministers,  with  their  places 
of  abode,  and  manner  of  life.  The  number  of  ministers 
who  were  imprisoned,  fined,  or  otherwise  suflfered  for 
preaching  the  gospel,  was  very  great. 

"  The  dreadful  fire  in  London,  which  happened  the  next 
year,  made  the  way  of  the  Nonconformists  plainer  to 
them.  For  the  churches  being  burnt,  and  the  parish 
ministers  gone,  for  want  of  places  and  maintenance 
the  people's  necessity  became  unquestionable ;  they 
having  no  places  to  worship  God  in,  except  a  few  churches 
that  were  left  standing,  which  would  not  hold  any  con- 
siderable part  of  them.  Upon  this  the  Nonconformists 
opened  public  meeting-houses,  which  were  very  full : 
but  still  agreed  sometimes  to  communicate  with  the  es- 
tablished church." 

The  influence  which  these  oppressive  enactments  ex- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


165 


ercised  on  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  is  thus  referred  to 
by  Matthew  Henry :  "  At  Lady  Day,  1 666,  the  Five-mile 
Act  commenced,  by  which  all  Nonconformist  ministers 
were  forbidden,  upon  pain  of  six  months'  imprisonment, 
to  come  or  be  within  five  miles  of  any  corporation,  or  of 
any  place  where  they  had  been  ministers,  unless  they 
would  take  an  oath  ;  of  which  Mr.  Baxter  remarks,  it  was 
credibly  reported,  that  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  then 
Lord  High  Treasurer  of  England,  said,  no  honest  man 
could  take  it.  Mr.  Henry  set  down  his  reasons  against 
taking  this  Oxford  oath,  as  it  was  called.  It  was  an  oath, 
not  to  endeavour,  at  any  time,  to  alter  the  government, 
in  church  or  state.  He  had  already  taken  an  oath  of 
allegiance  to  the  King,  and  he  looked  upon  this  as 
amounting  to  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  bishops,  which 
he  was  not  free  to  take.  Thus  he  writes,  March  22, 1665-6 : 
"  This  day  methought  it  was  made  more  clear  to  me 
than  ever,  by  the  hand  of  God  upon  me,  and  I  note  it 
down,  that  I  may  remember  it  ;  1.  That  the  govern- 
ment of  the  church  of  Christ  ought  to  be  managed  by  the 
ministers  of  Christ.  It  appears,  Hebrews  xiii.  7.  that 
they  are  to  i-ule  us  w^ho  speak  to  us  the  word  of  God.  2. 
That  under  Prelacy,  ministers  haVe  not  the  management 
of  church  government,  being  only  the  publishers  of  the 
prelate's  decrees,  as  in  excommunication,  and  absolution ; 
which  decrees  sometimes  are  given  forth  by  lay-chancel- 
lors. 3.  That,  therefore.  Prelacy  is  an  usurpation  in  the 
church  of  God,  upon  the  crown  and  dignity  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  upon  the  gospel-rights  of  his  servants  the 
ministers.  And  therefore,  4.  I  ought  not  to  subscribe  to 
it,  nor  to  swear  not  to  endeavour,  in  all  lawful  ways,  the 


166 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


alteration  of  it,  viz.  by  praying  and  persuading,  where 
there  is  opportunity.  But,  5.  That  I  may  safely  venture 
to  suffer  in  the  refusal  of  such  an  oath,  committing  my 
soul,  life,  estate,  liberty,  all,  to  Him  who  judgeth  righte- 
ously. 

"  On  March  25,  the  day  when  that  act  took  place, 
he  thus  writes  :  A  sad  day  among  poor  ministers  up  and 
down  this  nation ;  who,  by  this  act  of  restraint,  are  forced 
to  remove  from  among  their  friends,  acquaintance,  and 
relations,  and  to  sojourn  among  strangers.  But  there  is 
a  God  '  who  tells  their  wanderings,"  and  will  put  '  their 
tears,'  and  the  tears  of  their  wives  and  children,  '  into  his 
bottle.'  Are  they  not  in  his  book  ?  The  Lord  be  a  little 
sanctuary  to  them,  and  a  place  of  refuge  from  the  storm, 
and  from  the  tempest,  and  pity  those  places  from  which 
they  are  ejected,  and  come  and  dwell  where  they  may  not, 

"  This  severe  dispensation  forced  Mr.  Steel  and  his 
family  from  Hanmer,  and  so  he  lost  the  comfort  of 
.  his  neighbourhood  ;  it  also  drove  Mr.  Lawrence  from 
Baschurch  to  Whitchurch  parish,  where  he  continued 
till  he  was  driven  thence  also. 

"  Mr.  Henry  hoped  that  he  might  have  escaped  one  of 
the  most  oppressive  requirements  of  this  act — his  house 
at  Broad  Oak  was  but  four  reputed  miles  from  the  utmost 
limits  of  Woi-thenbury  parish,  but  he  got  it  measured, 
and  accounting  1760  yards  to  a  mile,  according  to  the 
Statute,  35  Eliz.  cap.  6,  it  was  found  to  be  just  five  miles 
and  threescore  yards,  which  one  would  tliink  might  have 
been  his  security.  But  there  were  those  near  him  who 
/  Nvere  ready  to  stretch  such  laws  to  the  utmost  rigour, 
under  pretence  of  construing  them  in  favour  of  the  King, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


167 


\nd,  therefore,  would  have  it  to  be  understood  of  reputed 
miles.  This  obliged  him  for  some  time  to  leave  his  family, 
and  to  sojouiTi  among  his  fiiends,  to  whom  he  endea- 
Diired,  wherever  he  came,  to  impart  some  spiritual  gift. 

last,  he  ventured  home,  presuming,  among  other 
.ixings,  that  the  warrant  by  which  he  was  made  collector 
of  the  Royal  Aid,  while  that  continued,  would  secure  him, 
rding  to  a  proviso  in  the  last  clause  of  the  act,  which, 
.  litn  the  gentlemen  perceived,  they  discharged  him  from 
that  office,  before  he  had  served  out  the  time. ' 

"  He  was  much  affected  with  it,  that  the  burning  of 
London  had  happened  so  soon  after  the  Nonconformists 
were  banished  out  of  it.    He  thought  it  was  in  mercy  to 
them,  that  they  were  removed  before  that  desolating 
judgment  came,  but  that  it  spoke  aloud  to  our  governors, 
— •  Let  my  people  go  that  they  may  serve  me ;  and  if  ye 
-1  not,  behold  thus  and  thus  will  I  do  unto  you.'  This 
-  the  Lord's  voice  crying  in  the  city. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1667,  he  removed  with 
family  to  Whitchurch,  and  dwelt  there  above  a  year, 
-pt  that  for  one  quarter  of  a  year,  about  harvest,  he 
-  turned  again  to  Broad  Oak.    His  removal  to  Whit- 
church was  partly  to  quiet  his  adversaries,  who  were 
ready  to  quarrel  with  him  upon  the  Five-mile  Act, 
and  partly  for  the  benefit  of  the  school  there  for  his 
children." 

I  While  thus  suffering  under  the  wrongs  so  unmerit- 
edly  inflicted  on  these  faithful  ministers  of  Christ, 
Mr.  Henry  was  called  upon  to  endure  the  far  more  try- 
ing affliction  of  the  loss  of  his  first-born,  John,  a  child 
who  is  described  by  him  as  of  a  remarkably  sweet  and 


168 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


gentle  dispositiorij  exceedingly  aflfectionate,  and  of  great 
capacity  for  learning. 

"  In  April  following/'  says  his  biographer,  "  he  buried 
his  eldest  son,  not  quite  six  years  old,  a  child  of  extra- 
ordinary pregnancy  and  forwardness  in  learning,  and  of 
a  very  towardly  disposition."  This,  it  will  be  readily  be- 
lieved, was  a  gi-eat  affliction  to  the  tender  parents,  and 
none  the  less  so,  from  the  trying  circumstances  under 
which  they  were  then  placed. 

"  Many  years  after,  Mr.  Henry  said,  he  thought  he  did 
apply  to  himself  at  that  time,  but  too  sensibly,  that  scrip- 
ture,— 'I  am  the  man  that  hath  seen  affliction  and  he 
would  say  to  his  friends  upon  such  occasions, — '  Losers 
think  they  may  have  leave  to  speak,  but  they  must  have 
a  care  what  they  say,  lest  speaking  amiss  to  God's  dis- 
honour, they  make  work  for  repentance,  and  shed  tears 
that  must  be  wept  over  again.'  He  observed  concerning 
this  child,  that  he  had  always  been  veiy  patient  under 
rebukes,  the  rem<»'~  .  xaiice  of  which,  he  adds,  teacheth 
me  now  ho  co  cany  it  under  the  rebukes  of  my  heavenly 
Father.  A  Lord's  dfiy  intervening  between  the  death 
and  burial  of  the  chiM, — [  attended,  says  he,  on  public 
ordinances,  tliough  sad  in  spirit,  as  Job,  who,  after  all  the 
evil  tidings  that  vrei  e  brought  him,  whereof  death  of 
cliildren  was  the  last  and  heaviest,  yet  fell  down  and 
worshipped  ;  and  he  would  often  say  upon  such  occa- 
sions, that  weeping  must  not  hinder  sowing.  Upon  the 
interment  of  the  child,  he  writes, — My  dear  child,  now 
mine  no  longer,  was  laid  in  the  cold  earth,  not  lost,  but 
soon  to  be  raised  again  a  glorious  body ;  I  shall  go  to 
him,  but  he  shall  not  return  to  me. 


I  THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRJ.  169 

"While  he  lived  at  Whitchurch,  he  attended  constantly 
upon  the  public  ministry,  and  there,  as  ever,  he  was  care- 
ful to  come  to  the  beginning  of  the  service,  which  he  at- 
tended upon  with  reverence  and  devotion  ;  standing  all 
the  time,  even  while  the  chapters  were  read. 
Ij  "  In  the  evening  of  tlie  Lord's  day,  he  spent  some  time 
!:in  instructing  his  family,  to  which  a  few  of  his  friends 
and  neighbours  in  the  town  would  sometimes  come  in  ; 
and  it  was  a  little  gleam  of  opportunity,  but  very  short, 
for,  as  he  notes  ; — He  (referring  to  the  King,)  was  of- 
ifended  at  it,  who  should  rather  have  rejoiced  if,  by  any 
means,  the  work  might  be  carried  on  in  his  people's  souls. 

"  This  year,"  adds  his  son,  "  I  think  was  the  first 
time  that  he  administered  the  Lord's  supper,  very 
(privately  to  be  sure,  after  he  was  silenced  by  the  Act  of 
I  Uniformity  ;  and  he  did  not  do  it  without  mature  de- 
liberation.   A  fe^r  of  separation  kept  him  from  it  so  long  ; 
;  what  induced  him  to  it  at  last,  I  find  thus  under  his  own 
I  hand.    I  am  a  minister  of  Christ,  and  as  such  I  am 
jobliged,  in  virtue  of  my  office,  by  all  means  to  endeavour 
ithe  good  of  souls.    Now  here  is  a  company  of  serious 
Christians,  whose  lot  is  cast  to  live  in  a  parish,  where 
there  is  one  set  over  them  who  preacheththe  truth ;  and 
they  come  to  hear  him,  and  join  with  him  in  other  parts 
of  worsliip  ;  only,  as  to  the  Lord's  supper,  they  question 
the  lawfulness  of  the  gesture  of  kneeling  ;  and  he  tells 
jthem,  his  hands  are  tied,  and  he  cannot  administer  it 
unto  them  any  other  way  ;  wherefore  they  come  to  me, 
and  tell  me,  they  earnestly  long  for  that  ordinance ;  and 
there  is  a  competent  number  of  them,  and  opportunity 
to  partake  ;  and  how  dare  I  deny  this  request  of  theirs, 


170 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


without  betraying  my  ministerial  trust,  and  incurring 
the  guilt  of  a  grievous  omission  ? 

"In  February,  1667-8,  Mr.  Lawrence  and  he  were  in- 
vited by  some  of  their  friends  to  Betley,  in  Staffordshire, 
and  (there  being  some  little  public  connivance  at  that 
time)  with  the  consent  of  all  concerned,  they  adventured 
to  preach  in  the  church,  one  in  the  morning,  and  the 
other  in  the  afternoon,  of  the  Lord's  day,  very  peaceably 
and  profitably.  This  action  of  theirs  was  presently  after 
reported  in  the  House  of  Commons,  by  a  member  of  par- 
liament, with  these  additions, — That  they  tore  the  Com- 
mon Prayer  Book,  trampled  the  surplice  under  their  feet, 
pulled  down  the  ministers  of  the  place  out  of  the  pulpit, 
&c.  Reports  which  there  was  not  the  least  colour  for. 
But  that,  with  some  other  such-like  false  stories,  pro- 
duced an  address  of  the  House  of  Commons,  urging  the 
King,  to  issue  a  proclamation  for  putting  the  laws  in 
execution  against  Papists  and  Nonconformists,  wliich 
was  issued  accordingly  ;  though  the  King,  at  the  open- 
ing of  that  session  a  little  before,  had  declared  his  de- 
sire that  some  course  might  be  taken  to  compose  the 
minds  of  his  Protestant  subjects,  in  matters  of  religion  ; 
which  had  raised  the  expectations  of  many,  that  there 
would  be  speedy  enlargement ;  but  Mr.  Henry  had  noted 
upon  it, — We  cannot  expect  too  little  from  man,  nor  too 
much  from  God." 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  EENBT. 


171 


CHAPTER  XVm. 

RETURN  TO  BROAD  OAK 

Is  the  year  1667,  the  Lord  Chancellor  Hyde,  who  had 
been  one  of  the  most  active  in  promoting  and  enforcing 

' '  the  successive  acts  against  the  Nonconformists,  was  him- 
self abandoned  to  the  malice  and  enmity  of  political  op- 
ponents, and  was  impeached  and  driven  into  exile.  This 
was  looked  upon  b}"^  many  of  the  pious  Nonconformist 
aufiferers  as  a  righteous  judgment  against  their  oppressor. 
It  was  immediately  felt  by  them  as  a  relief,  as  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  who  succeeded  to  the  royal  favour,  con- 
nived at  the  meetings  of  the  Nonconformists,  and  greatly 
relaxed  the  severity  of  the  enactments  under  which  they 
had  suffered  from  his  predecessor. 

Philip  Henry  lost  no  time  in  availing  himself  of  the  op- 
portunity which  this  change  of  royal  favourites  seemed  to 
afford.  "  In  May,  1668,  he  returned  again  with  his  family 

■  from  Whitchurch  to  Broad  Oak,  which,  througli  the  good 
hand  of  his  God  upon  him,  continued  his  settled  home, 
without  any  removal  from  it,  till  he  was  removed  to  his 
long  home  about  twenty-eight  years  after.  The  severity  of 
the  Five-mile  Act  began  now  a  little  to  abate,  at  least 
in  that  county  ;  and  he  was  desirous  to  be  more  useful 
to  the  neighbours  among  whom  God  had  given  Jiim  an 
estate,  than  he  could  be  at  a  distance  from  them,  by  re- 

'  iieving  the  poor,  employing  the  labourers,  especially  in- 

•  structing  the  ignorant,  and  helping  as  many  as  he  could 


172 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


to  heaven.  He  made  that  scripture  his  standing  rule, 
and  wrote  it  in  the  beginning  of  his  book  of  accounts, 
*  Honour  the  Lord  with  thy  substance/  &c.,  and  having  set 
apart  a  day  of  secret  prayer  and  humiliation,  to  beg  of 
God  a  wise  and  an  understanding  heart,  and  to  drop  a 
tear,  as  he  expresseth  it,  over  the  sins  of  his  predecessors, 
formerly  in  that  estate,  he  laid  out  himself  very  much 
in  doing  good.  He  was  very  seiTiceable  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  though  it  took  up  a  great  deal  of  his  time,  and 
hindered  him  from  his  beloved  studies,  yet  it  might  be 
said  of  him,  as  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  says  of  Archbishop 
Tillotson,  in  his  sermon  at  his  funeral,  that  he  chose 
rather  to  Hve  to  the  good  of  others  than  to  himself,  and 
thought,  that  to  do  an  act  of  charity,  or  even  of  tender- 
ness and  kindness,  was  of  more  value,  both  in  itself,  and 
in  the  sight  of  God,  than  to  pursue  the  pompous  parts  of 
learning,  how  much  soever  his  own  genius  might  lead 
him  to  it. 

"He  was  very  useful  in  the  common  concernments  of 
the  township  and  country,  in  which  he  was  a  very  pru- 
dent counsellor;  it  was,  indeed,  a  narrow  sphere  of  activity, 
but,  such  as  it  was,  to  him — as  to  Job, — 'men  gave  ear 
and  waited,  and  kept  silence  at  his  counsel;  after  his 
words  they  spake  not  again ;'  and  many  of  the  neighbours 
who  respected  him  not  as  a  minister,  yet  loved  and 
honoured  him  as  a  knowing,  prudent,  and  humble  neigh- 
bour. In  the  concernments  of  private  families,  he  was 
very  far  from  busying  himself ;  but  he  was  very  fre- 
quent!^ applied  to  to  advise  many  about  their  affairs, 
and  the  disposal  of  themselves  and  their  children,  and  in 
arbitrating  and  composing  differences  among  relations 


THE  REV,  PHILIP  HENRY. 


173 


and  neighbours,  in  which  he  had  an  excellent  faculty, 
and  often  good  success,  inheriting  the  blessing  entailed 
upon  the  peace-makers.  References  have  sometimes  been 
made  to  him  by  rule  of  court,  at  the  assizes,  with  consent 
of  parties.  He  was  very  affable  and  easy  of  access,  and 
admirably  patient  in  hearing  every  one's  complaint, 
which  he  would  answer  with  so  much  prudence  and  mild- 
ness, and  give  such  apt  advice,  that  many  a  time  to  con- 
sult with  him  was  to  ask  counsel  at  Abel,  and  so  to  end 
the  matter.*  He  observed,  in  almost  all  quarrels  that 
happened,  that  there  was  fault  on  both  sides  ;  and  that 
generally  they  were  most  in  the  fault  that  were  most 
forward  and  clamorous  in  their  complaints.  One  making 
her  moan  to  him  of  a  bad  husband  that  in  this  and  the 
other  instance  was  unkind ;  Sir,  saith  she,  after  along  com- 
plaint which  he  patiently  heard,  what  would  you  have  me 
to  do  now  ?  "Why  truly,  saith  he,  I  would  have  you  to 
go  home,  and  be  a  better  wife  to  him,  and  then  you  will 
find  that  he  wUl  be  a  better  husband  to  you.  Labour- 
ing to  persuade  one  to  forgive  an  injury  that  was  done 
hira  ;  he  urged  this,  Are  you  not  a  Christian  ?  and  fol- 
lowed the  argument  so  close  that  at  last  he  prevailed. 
"  He  was  very  industrious,  and  oft  successful,  in  per- 
iling people  to  recede  ft-om  their  right  for  peace  sake  ; 
and  he  would  for  that  purpose  tell  them  Luther's  story 
of  the  two  goats,  that  met  upon  a  naiTOW  bridge  over  a 
deep  water  ;  they  could  not  go  back,  they  durst  not 
fight  ;  after  a  short  parley,  one  of  them  lay  dovm,  and 
let  the  other  go  over  him,  and  no  harm  was  done.t  He 

*  See  2  Sam.  xx.  18. 
t  The  moral  ia  easy.   Be  content  thy  person  be  trodupon  for  peace  sake. 
Thy  person,  I  say  not  thy  conscience.    P.  Henry.  Orig.  MS*,  as  quoted  by 


174 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


would  likewise  relate  sometimes  a  remarkable  story, 
worthy  to  be  here  inserted,  conceining  a  good  friend  of 
his,  Mr.  T.  Yates  of  Whitchurch,  who  in  his  youth  was 
greatly  wronged  by  an  unjust  uncle  of  his.  Being  an 
orphan,  his  jjortion,  which  was  .£200,  was  put  into  the 
hands  of  that  uncle  ;  who  when  he  grew  up,  shuffled 
with  him,  and  would  give  him  but  <£40,  instead  of  his  <£200, 
and  he  had  no  way  of  recovering  his  right  but  by  law  ; 
but  before  he  would  engage  in  that,  he  was  willing  to  ad- 
vise with  his  minister,  who  was  the  famous  Dr.  Twiss,  of 
Newbury  ;  the  counsel  he  gave  him,  all  things  con- 
sidered, was,  for  peace  sake,  and  for  the  preventing  of  sin, 
and  snares,  and  trouble,  to  take  the  <£40,  rather  than 
contend  ;  and  Thomas,  saith  the  Doctor,  if  thou  dost  so, 
assure  thyself,  that  God  will  make  it  up  to  thee  and  thme 
some  other  way,  and  they  that  defraud  thee  will  be  the 
losers  by  it  at  last.  He  did  so,  and  it  jdeased  God  so  to 
bless  that  little  which  he  began  the  world  with,  that 
when  he  died  in  a  good  old  age,  he  left  his  son  possessed 
of  some  hundreds  a-year ;  and  he  that  wronged  him  fell 
into  decay. 

"  He  was  very  charitable  to  the  poor,  and  was  full  of 
alms-deeds,  which  he  did,  not  which  he  said  he  would 
do,  or  which  he  put  others  on  to  do,  but  which  he  did 
himself,  dispersing  abroad  and  giving  to  the  poor,  seek- 
ing and  rejoicing  in  opportunities  of  that  kind.  And  when- 
ever he  gave  an  alms  for  the  body,  he  usually  gave  with 
it  a  sph'itual  alms,  some  good  word  of  counsel,  reproof, 
instruction,  or  comfort,  as  there  was  occasion,  and  in  ac- 
commodating these  to  the  persons  he  spoke  to,  he  hac 
a  very  great  dexterity. 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


115 


"He  was  very  forward  to  lend  money  freely  to  any  of  his 
poor  neighbours  that  had  occasion,  and  would  sometimes 
say,  that  in  many  cases  there  was  more  charity  in  lending 
than  in  giving,  because  it  obliged  the  borrower  both  to 
honesty  and  industry.  When  one  of  his  neighbours,  to 
whom  he  had  lent  three  pounds,  failed,  so  that  he  was 
never  likely  to  see  a  farthing  of  it,  he  writes  thus  upon 
it ; — notwithstanding  this,  yet  still  I  judge  it  my  duty 
TO  lend,  nothing  despairing  ;  so  Dr.  Hammond  reads  it, 
Luke  vi.  35.  '  Though  what  is  lent  in  charity  be  not  re- 
])aid,  yet  it  is  not  lost.  When  those  that  had  borrowed 
money  of  him  paid  him  again,  he  usually  gave  them 
back  some  part,  to  encourage  honesty.  He  judged  the 
vaking  of  moderate  interest  for  money  lawful,  where  the 
borrower  was  in  a  way  of  gaining  by  it.  But  he  would 
advise  his  friends  that  had  money  rather  to  dispose  of  it 
otiierwise  if  they  could. 

"  It  must  not  be  forgotten,  how  punctual  and  exact  he 
VA-as  in  all  his  accounts  with  tenants,  workmen,  &c.,  being 
always  careful  to  keep  such  things  in  black  and  white,  as 
he  used  to  say,  which  is  the  surest  way  to  prevent  mis- 
takes, and  a  man's  ^\Tonging  either  himself  or  his  neigh- 
bour ;  such  was  his  prudence,  and  such  his  patience  and 
peaceableness,  that  all  the  time  he  was  at  Broad  Oak,  he 
never  sued  any,  nor  ever  was  sued,  but  was  instrumental 
in  preventing  many  a  vexatious  law-suit  among  his 
neighbours. 

"  He  was  noted  for  an  extraordinaiy  neatness  and  care 
about  liis  house  and  ground,  which  he  would  often  say 
he  could  not  endure  to  see  like  the  '  field  of  the  slothful, 
and  the  vineyard  of  the  man  void  of  understanding.' 


176 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


It  was  strange,  indeed,  how  easily  one  that  had  been 
bred  up  utterly  a  stranger  to  such  things,  yet  when  God 
so  ordered  his  lot,  acquainted  himself  with,  and  accom- 
modated himself  to,  the  affairs  of  the  country,  making 
it  the  diversion  of  his  vacant  hours  to  oversee  his  gar- 
dens and  fields  ;  when  he  better  understood  that  known 
Epode  of  Horace,  Beatus  ille  qui  procul  negotiis,  than 
he  did  when  in  his  youth  he  made  an  ingenious  transla- 
tion of  it.  His  care  of  this  kind  was  an  act  of  charity 
to  poor  labom-ers  whom  he  employed  ;  and  it  was  a  good 
example  to  his  neighbours,  as  well  as  for  the  comfort  of 
his  own  family. 

"  His  house  at  Broad  Oak  was  by  the  road  side,  which, 
though  it  had  its  inconveniences,  yet  he  often  said  it 
pleased  him  well,  because  it  gave  his  friends  an  oppor- 
tunity of  calling  on  him  the  oftener. 

"  He  was  a  lover  of  good  men,  and  such  always  met 
with  a  cordial  welcome  under  his  roof ;  so  that  he  would 
pleasantly  say  sometimes,  when  he  had  his  Christian 
fi'iends  about  him,  he  had  room  for  twelve  of  them  in 
his  beds,  a  hundred  of  them  in  his  barn,  and  a  thousand 
of  them  in  his  heart. 

"  Nor  was  he  unmindful  of  others  ;  for  he  spoke  of  it 
with  pleasure,  that  the  situation  of  his  house  also  gave 
him  an  opportunity  of  being  kind  to  strangers,  and  such 
as  were  any  way  distressed  on  the  road,  to  whom  he  was 
upon  all  occasions  cheerfully  ready,  fully  answering  the 
apostle's  character  of  a  bishop,  that  he  must  be  of  good 
behaviour, — decent,  affable,  and  obliging, — ^and  'given 
to  hospitality ; '  like  Abraham,  sitting  at  his  tent-door, 
in  quest  of  opportunities  to  do  good.    If  he  met  with 


THE  REV,  PHILIP  HENRY. 


any  poor  near  his  house,  and  gave  them  alms  in  money, 
yet  he  would  bid  them  go  to  his  door  besides,  for  relief 
there.    He  was  veiy  tender  and  compassionate  towards 
y>()or  strangers  and  travellers,  though  his  charity  and 
idour  were  often  imposed  upon  by  cheats  and  pre- 
lers,  whom  he  was  not  apt  to  be  suspicious  of  ;  but 
old  say,  in  the  most  fevourable  sense,  *Thou  knowest 
the  heart  of  a  stranger.'    If  any  asked  liis  charity, 
-i.  )se  representation  of  their  case  he  did  not  like,  or  who 
he  thought  did  amiss  to  take  that  course,  he  would  first 
give  them  an  alms,  and  then  mildly  reprove  them,  and 
labour  to  convince  them  that  they  were  out  of  the  way 
of  duty,  and  that  they  could  not  expect  that  God  should 
^  '1' ss  them  in  it  ;  and  would  not  chide  them,  but  reason 
!i  them.    He  would  add, — If  he  should  tell  them 
■~it  their  faults,  and  not  give  them  an  alms,  the  reproof 
would  look  only  like  an  excuse  to  deny  liis  charity,  and 
would  be  rejected  accordingly. 

"  In  a  word,  his  greatest  care  about  the  things  of  this 
world  was,  how  to  do  good  with  what  he  had,  and  to 
'  devise  liberal  things ; '  desiring  to  make  no  other  acces- 
sion to  his  estate,  but  only  that  blessing  which  attends 
beneficence.  He  did  firmly  believe,  and  it  should  seem 
few  do,  that  what  '  is  given  to  the  poor,  is  lent  to  the 
Lord,'  who  will  pay  it  again  in  kind  or  kindness  ;  and 
that  religion  and  piety  are  undoubtedly  the  best  friends 
to  outward  prosperity,  and  he  found  it  so  ;  for  it  pleased 
God  abundantly  to  bless  his  habitation,  and  to  '  make  a 
hedge  about  liim,'  and  about  his  house,  and  about  all 
that  he  had  round  about.  Though  he  did  not  de- 
light himself  in  the  abundance  of  wealth,  yet,  what  is 

M 


178 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


hx  better,  he  delighted  himself  in  the  '  abundance  oi 
peace.'  All  that  he  had,  and  did,  observably  prospered, 
so  that  the  country  oftentimes  took  notice  of  it ;  and 
called  his  family  a  family  which  the  Lord  had  blessed. 

"  Having  given  this  general  account  of  his  circum- 
stances at  Broad  Oak,  we  shall  now  go  on  with  his  storj^ 
especially  as  to  the  exercise  of  his  ministry  there,  and 
thereabouts  ;  for  that  was  his  work,  the  thing  on  which 
he  was  set,  and  to  which  he  wholly  gave  himself,  taking 
other  things  as  opportunity  suggested.  After  this  settle- 
ment at  Broad  Oak,  whenever  there  was  preaching  at 
Whitewell  Chapel,  as  usually  there  was  two  Lord's  days 
in  the  month,  he  constantly  attended  there  with  his 
fcimily,  was  usually  among  the  first,  and  reverently  joined 
in  the  public  service ;  he  diligently  wrote  the  sermons ; 
always  stayed  if  the  ordinance  of  baptism  was  adminis- 
tered, but  not  if  there  was  a  wedding,  for  he  thought 
that  a  solemnity  not  proper  for  the  Lord's  day.  He  often 
dined  the  minister  that  preached ;  after  dinner  he  sung 
a  psalm,  recapitulated  the  morning  sermon,  and  prayed  ; 
and  then  attended  in  like  manner  in  the  afternoon.  In 
the  evening  he  preached  to  his  own  family ;  and  perhaps 
two  or  three  of  his  neighbours  would  drop  in  to  him.  On 
those  Lord's  days  when  there  was  no  preaching  at  the 
chapel,  he  spent  the  whole  day  at  home  ;  and  many  an 
excellent  sermon  he  preached,  when  there  were  present 
only  four  besides  his  own  family,  and  perhaps  not  so 
many,  according  to  the  limitation  of  the  Conventicle 
Act.  In  these  narrow  private  circumstances  he  preached 
over  the  former  part  of  the  Assembly's  Catechism,  from 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


179 


divers  texts  ;  he  also  preached  over  Psalm  cxvi.,  besides 
many  particular  occasional  subjects, 

"  What  a  grief  of  heart  it  was  to  him,  to  be  thus  put 
'  under  a  bushel,'  and  confined  to  such  a  narrow  sphere 
of  usefulness,  read  in  his  own  words,  which  I  shall 
tianscribe  out  of  an  elegy  he  made,  to  give  vent  to  his 
thoughts,  upon  the  death  of  his  worthy  friend,  Mr.  George 
Mainwaring,  some  time  minister  of  Malpas,  who  was 
silenced  by  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  and  died,  March  14, 
1669-70;  wherein  he  thus  bewails,  feelingly  enough, 
the  like  restraints  and  confinements  of  his  friend : — 

"  His  Liter  years  he  sadly  spent, 
Wrapt  up  in  silence  and  restraint 
A  burden  such  as  none  can  know, 
But  they  that  do  it  undergo. 
To  have  a  fire  shut  up  and  pent 
Within  the  bowels,  and  no  vent ; 
To  have  gorg'd  breasts,  and,  by  a  law 
Tliose  that  fain  would,  forbid  to  draw. 
But  his  dmnb  sabbaths  here,  did  prove 
Load  crying  sabbaths  In  heaven  above. 
His  tears,  when  he  might  sow  no  more. 
Watering  what  he  had  sown  before. 

"  Soon  after  Mr.  Henry's  settlement  at  Broad  Oak, 
he  took  a  young  scholar  into  the  house  with  him ;  partly 
to  teach  his  son,  and  partly  to  be  a  companion  to  him- 
self, to  converse  with  him  and  to  receive  help  and  in- 
struction from  him  ;  and,  for  many  years,  he  was  seldom 
without  one  or  other  such  ;  who  before  their  going  to 
the  university,  or  in  the  intervals  of  their  attendance 
1]  there,  would  be  in  his  family,  sitting  under  his  shadow. 
One  of  the  first  he  had  with  him,  in  the  year  1688,  and 
afterwards,  was  Mr.  William  Turner,  born  in  the  neigh- 


180 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


bourhood ;  afterwards  of  Edmund  Hall,  Oxford,  now  Vicar 
of  Walburton,  in  Sussex,  to  whom  the  world  is  beholden 
for  that  elaborate  '  History  of  all  Religions,'  which  he 
published  in  the  year  1695.  Between  Mr.  Henry  and 
him  there  was  a  most  entire  and  affectionate  friendship ; 
and,  notwithstanding  that  distance  of  place,  a  constant 
and  endearing  coiTespondence  was  kept  up  as  long  as  Mr. 
Henry  lived. 

Philip  Henry  had  such  regard  for  the  university,  and 
valued  so  much  the  mighty  opportunities  of  improvement 
there,  that  he  advised  all  his  friends  who  designed  their 
children  for  scholars,  to  send  them  thither,  for  many 
years  after  the  change,  though  he  always  counted  upon 
their  conformity.  But  long  experience  altered  his  mind 
therein,  and  he  chose  rather  to  keep  his  own  son  at  home 
with  him,  and  to  give  him  what  help  he  could  there 
in  his  education,  than  venture  him  into  the  snares  and 
temptations  of  the  university. 

It  was  also  soon  after  this  settlement  of  his  at 
Broad  Oak,  that  he  contracted  an  intimate  friendship 
with  the  learned,  pious,  and  judicious  Mr.  Hunt  of 
Boreatton,  the  son  of  Colonel  Hunt  of  Salop,  and  with 
his  excellent  lady,  Frances,  daughter  of  the  Right  Hon. 
the  Lord  Paget.  The  acquaintance  then  begun  between 
Mr.  Henry  and  that  worthy  family  continued  to  his  dying 
day,  about  thirty  years.  One  Lord's  day  in  a  quarter 
he  commonly  spent  with  them,  besides  other  interviews. 
And  it  was  a  constant  rejoicing  to  him  to  see  religion 
and  the  power  of  godliness  uppermost  in  such  a  family 
as  that,  when  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble  are 
called  ;  and  the  branches  of  it  '  branches  of  righteousness, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


181 


the  planting  of  the  Lord.'    Divers  of  the  honourable  re- 
I  lations  of  that  family,"  Matthew  Henry  adds,  "con- 
tracted a  very  great  respect  for  him,  particularly  the 
I  present  Lord  Paget,  his  Majesty's  ambassador  at  the 
;  Ottoman  court,  and  Sir  Henry  Ashurst,  whom  we  shall 
have  occasion  afterwards  to  make  mention  of. 

"  Mr.  Henry'  also,"  as  Mr.  Long  remarks  in  the  life  of 
.  his  son,  "  stood  high  in  the  esteem  of  Thomas  Corbet, 
Esq.  of  Stanwardine,  George  C\yye,  Esq.  of  Walford,  and 
I  Mr.  Harris  of  Prescot.    These  gentlemen  were  always 
.  glad  to  receive  him  into  their  houses,  and  to  attend  upon 
t  his  ministry  whenever  they  had  an  opportunity.  They 
lived  in  the  same  parish,  and  though  they  generally  fre- 
i  quented  the  place  of  public  worship,  where  they  had  a 
,  sober,  judicious,  and  peaceable  minister,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Hudson,  yet  they  had  often  sei-mons  preached  in  their 
I  owTi  houses  by  the  Nonconformists  who  lived  near  them, 
t  sometimes  on  week-days,  sometimes  on  the  Lord's  day^ 
•  out  of  the  time  of  public  worship  ;  and  I  have  often 
( seen  some  of  Mr.  Hudson's  family,  his  wife  and  children, 
[  present  on  such  occasions. 

i"  In  the  time  of  trouble  and  distress  by  the  Conventicle 
Act,  in  1670,  he  kept  private,  and  stirred  little  abroad, 
as  loath  to  offend  those  that  were  in  power,  and  judging 
it  prudence  to  gather  in  his  sails  Avhen  the  storm  was 
I  violent.  He  then  observed  as  that  which  he  was  trou- 
,  bled  at,  that  there  was  a  great  deal  of  precious  time  lost 
[among  professors,  when  they  came  together,  in  discours- 
|;ing  on  their  adventures  and  their  escapes,  which  he 
;  feared  tended  more  to  set  up  self,  than  to  give  glory  to 
God ;  also  in  telling  how  they  got  together,  and  such  a 


182 


LIFE  AND- TIMES  OF 


one  preached,  but  little  inquiring  what  spiritual  benefit 
and  advantage  was  reaped  by  it.  We  are  apt,"  he  added, 
"  to  make  the  circumstances  of  our  religious  services  more 
the  matter  of  our  discourse  than  the  substance  of  them. 

"At  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1671,  he  ventured  to 
London,  and  the  following  extracts  from  his  diary  on 
that  occasion  will  not  be  uninteresting  ;  particularly 
from  the  illustration  they  afford  of  the  proceedings  oi 
the  Nonconformists  at  this  period  : 

"1671.  August  13.  Preached  on  Jacob's  vow.  Gen. 
xxviii.  20,  &c.,  with  personal  appKcation,  saying,  '  If  God 
will  be  with  me  in  this  way  that  I  go,  then  the  Lord  shall 
be  my  God.' 

"14.  I  set  forward  towards  London. 

"  19.  To  Kensington. 

"  22.  Back  to  London  again. 

"  24.  Solemn  fast,  in  remembrance  of  the  sad  day  of 
ministers'  ejection,  kept  at  the  Countess  of  Exeter's,  with 
some  measm-e  of  holy  meltings  and  enlargements.  Dr. 
Jacomb,  Mr.  Steel,  Mr.  Mayo,  Mr.  Bull,  Mr.  Poole,  prayed 
and  preached  alternately.'    And  again  : 

"  September  2.  Attempted  to  keep  the  annual  fast, 
this  day,  in  remembrance  of  the  dreadful  fire  of  London. 
A.D.  1666,  but  strength  failed ;  to  will  was  present,  to  do 
was  not.  Thanks  is  also  to  be  given  for  the  strange  and 
wonderful  rebuilding  of  it  in  so  short  a  time  ;  which, 
but  that  ray  eyes  saw,  I  could  hardly  have  believed.  I 
had  the  sentence  of  death  within  myself,  and  was,  \u 
some  measure,  willing  to  it,  at  that  time,  and  in  that 
place,  though  a  stranerer  had  God  seen  good  ;  but  a  re- 
prieve came. 


j  THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  183 

**  3.  I  should  have  preached  and  communicated  with 
Dr.  Annesley,  but  was  prevented.  Time  was  when  I 
might  and  did  not ;  now  I  would,  and  might  not, 

"  7.  To  Islington,  where  was  buried  Mr.  Burghess,  a 
Nonconformist  minister  of  the  west  country  ;  there  were 
present  one  hundred  or  sixscore  ministers  ;  and  I  bless 
God  that  for  one  dead  there  were  so  many  living.  But 
it  grieved  me  to  see  them  divided  ;  part  stayed  the  office 
for  the  dead,  part  going  out.  Here  I  saw  Mr.  Senior, 
Mr.  Bull,  Mr.  Rowles,  former  acquaintances. 

"11.  I  saw  Dean  Hodges,  persuading  to  conform,  but 
I  dare  not  on  such  terms. 

"  18.  I  reached  home." 

This  visit  to  London,  and  an  illness  he  had  while 
there,  gave  rise  to  a  letter  from  his  wife,  which, 
viewed  as  an  illustration  of  character,  is  too  interesting 
to  be  entirely  omitted.  For  Mr.  Philip  Henry,  to  be 
left  with  Mr.  Enoch  Darack,  at  the  sign  of  the  Trumpet, 
within  Aldersgate,  London." 

"  My  Dear  Husband, 

I  "  I  received  your  last  yesterday,  and 

jam  grieved  to  hear  of  your  being  ill.  The  children 
,  and  family  are  well,  blessed  be  God,  and  myself  as  well 
I  as  I  can  be  whilst  in  fear  that  you  are  ill.  I  have  given 
up  all  my  interest  in  you  to  my  heavenly  Father,  and  am 
I  labouring  to  be  ready  for  evil  tidings,  which  if  it  be,  God 
knows  how  I  shall  bear  it.  I  shall  expect  between  hope 
and  fear  till  to-morrow  night,  and  whatever  the  issue 
may  be,  labour  to  justify  God.  Yet  I  hope  to  hear  of 
your  coming,  and  when  it  will  be,  in  your  next.  My 


184  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 

dear  heart,  the  Lord  be  with  you,  and  send  us  a  happy 
meetuag  :  so  prayeth  your 

"  FaitliM  and  loving  wife, 

"  Katheeinb  Hesbt.*' 

September  6, 167L 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  INDULGENCE 

Ih  the  year  1672,  war  broke  out  with  the  Dutch,  and 
the  court,  while  under  the  necessity  of  conciliating  the 
people,  and  fearful  of  the  distractions  consequent  on  in- 
testine divisions  at  such  a  time,  began  to  relax  in  the 
severity  of  the  measures  against  Nonconformists.  No  act, 
however,  was  passed  on  their  behalf,  but  the  King,  by 
virtue  of  his  presumed  power  as  head  of  the  church,  sus- 
pended the  penal  laws  against  them,  and  granted  per- 
mission for  the  erection  of  meeting-houses  by  such  of  the 
ejected  ministers  as  took  out  licenses.  In  this  new 
movement,  as  many  suspected  at  the  time,  there  was  a 
desire  to  afford  opportunities  for  the  Roman  Catholics  to 
establish  themselves,  under  cover  of  a  toleration  profess- 
edly designed  on  behalf  of  the  Puritan  Nonconformists. 
Nevertheless  it  was  felt  as  a  great  boon  by  the  latter,  and 
especially  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  where  per- 
eonal  enmity  and  the  jealousies  of  landed  proprietors  and 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  185 

country  magistrates,  often  greatly  aggravated  the  burden 
of  these  tyrannical  laws. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  severe  act  against  conventicles 
in  the  year  1670,  yet  the  Nonconformists  in  London  ven- 
tured to  set  up  meetings  in  1671,  and  w<».ro  connived  at ; 
but  in  the  country  there  was  little  liberty  taken,  till  the 
King's  declai-ation  of  March  15,  1671-2,  gave  counte- 
nance and  encouragement  to  it.    What  the  secret  springs 
were  which  produced  that  declaration,  time  discovered  ; 
however,  it  was  to  the  poor  Dissenters  as  life  from  the 
dead,  and  gave  them  some  reviving  in  their  bondage  ;  God 
gracious!}'  ordering  it  so,  that  the  spirit  he  had  made 
might  not  fail  before  him.    But  so  precarious  a  liberty 
was  it,  tliat  it  should  never  be  said  those  people  were 
hard  to  be  pleased,  who  were  so  well  pleased  with  that, 
\nd  thanked  God,  who  put  such  a  thing  into  the  King's 
rt.    The  tenor  of  the  declaration  was  this, — In  con- 
ation of  the  inefficacy  of  rigour,  tried  for  divers 
N  ears,  and  to  invite  strangers  into  the  kingdom,  while 
ratifying  the  Establishment  in  the  Church  of  England, 
it  suspends  penal  laws  against  all  Nonconformists  and 
recusants,  and  promises  to  license  separate  places  for 
meetings,  limiting  Papists  only  to  private  houses." 
li     The  remarks  of  Philip  Henry  in  reference  to  this  act 
:  of  indulgence,  while  they  strikingly  illustrate  his  gentle 
^  and  forbearing  disposition,  and  the  beautiful  spirit  of 
Christian  meekness  which  so  eminently  distinguished 
him  ;  are  also  worthy  of  notice  by  the  student  of  histoiy, 
from  the  evidence  they  afford  of  the  univei-sal  prevalence 
among  the  English  Presbyterians,  even  at  that  late 
period,  of  a  desire  for  the  establishment  of  their  own 


186 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


church  order  and  discipline,  accompanied  with  an  antici- 
pated, if  not  an  enforced,  uniformity. 

"  It  is,"  says  he  when  writing  of  tlie  indulgence,  "  a 
thing  diversely  resented,  as  men's  interests  lead  them  ; 
the  Conformists  are  displeased,  the  Presbyterians  glad, 
the  Independents  very  glad,  and  the  Papists  triumph. 
The  danger  is  lest  the  sanctioning  of  separate  places  of 
worship  help  to  overthrow  our  parish  order,  which  God 
hath  owned,  and  beget  divisions  and  animosities  among 
us,  which  no  honest  heart  but  would  rather  should  be 
healed.  We  are  put  herebj"-,  says  he,  into  a  trilemriia, 
either  to  turn  Independents  in  practice,  or  strike  in  with 
the  Conformists,  or  to  sit  down  in  our  former  silence  and 
sufferings,  (and  silence  he  accounted  one  of  their  greatest 
sufferings,)  till  the  Lord  shall  open  a  more  effectual  door. 
That  which  he  then  heartily  wished  for,  was, — That 
those  who  were  in  place  would  admit  the  sober  Non- 
conformists to  preach  occasionally  in  their  pulpits; 
by  which  means  he  thought  prejudices  would  in  time 
wear  off  on  both  sides,  and  they  might  mutually 
strengthen  each  other's  hands  against  the  common 
enemy, — the  Papists  ;  who  he  foresaw  would  fish  best 
in  troubled  waters.  This  he  would  much  rather  have 
preferred  than  to  keep  a  separate  meeting  ;  but  it  could 
not  be  had  ;  no,  not  so  much  as  leave  to  preach  in 
Whitew^ell  Chapel  when  it  was  vacant,  as  it  often  was, 
though  it  were  three  long  miles  from  the  parish  church. 
He  found  that  some  people,  the  more  they  are  courted, 
the  more  coy  they  are  ;  however,  the  overtures  he  made 
to  this  purpose,  and  the  slow  steps  he  took  towards  the  set- 
ting up  of  a  distinct  congregation,  yielded  him  satisfiw- 


THE  REY.  PHILIP  HENRY.  187 

uon  afterwards  in  the  reflection,  when  he  could  say, — we 
Ironld  have  been  united,  and  they  would  not. 
!  "  It  was  several  weeks  after  the  declaration  came  out, 
hat  he  received  a  license  to  preach,  as  Paul  did,  in  his 
)wn  house,  and  elsewhere,  no  man  forbidding  him.  This 
vas  procured  for  him  by  some  of  his  friends  in  London, 
-vithout  his  privity,  and  came  to  him  altogether  unex- 
)ectedly." 

Philip  Henry's  papers  contain  the  following  observa- 
i  iions  on  the  King's  declaration,  which  are  peculiarly  in- 
;eresting  when  we  consider  them  in  relation  to  his  pre- 
vious remarks  on  the  indulgence,  as  showing  how 
strongly  he  clung  to  the  idea  of  a  church  establishment, 
md  even  to  the  recognition  of  the  kingly  authority  in 
natters  ecclesiastical.  In  this,  as  in  so  many  other  in- 
jtances  in  the  history  of  the  English  Church,  we  see  to 
how  great  an  extent  the  prevalence  of  Nonconformity  is 
iraceable  to  the  blind  intolerance  of  the  church,  rather 
than  to  any  disinclination  to  order  amongst  Nonconfor- 
mists :  "  All  or  most  of  the  Conformists  have  said  they 
;ould  not  deny  us  to  be  ministers,  but  not  ministers  of 
tlie  Church  of  England,  without  Episcopal  ordination. 

By  a  minister  of  the  Church  of  England  can  be 
meant  no  other  than  a  minister  of  Christ  authorized  to 
preach  in  the  Church  of  England. 

"  All  the  power  to  be  owned  in  bishops,  is  derived  to 
them  from  the  King  ;  and,  in  those  things  wherein  the 
King  hath  power  in  church  matters,  in  those  things  we 
I  may  obey  the  bishops,  as  his  delegates  and  substitutes. 

"  In  King  .James's  time,  when  four  Scotch  presbyters 
were  to  be  consecrated  bishops  at  Lambeth,  it  was  moved 


188 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


tliat  they  might  first  be  ordained  presbyters  again  ;  but 

it  was  oveiTuled,  being  without  need. 

"  In  our  case,  the  King  immediately,  without  bishops, 
which  is  the  better,  gives  us  liberty,  being  already  min- 
iflters  of  Christ,  to  preach  in  his  dominions  where  he 
appoints. 

"  The  law  calls  the  King  patron-general  of  England. 
His  appointing  me  to  preach,  supposes  I  must  have 
hearers,  and  those,  of  necessity,  out  of  some  parish  or 
other.  What  we  do  is  to  serve  the  present  necessity,  and 
not  of  choice. 

"There  are  many  among  us  debarred  by  imposition 
from  communicating  with  freedom  in  public  in  the  Lord's 
supper ;  the  King  takes  pity  upon  them,  authorizes  one 
or  another  to  give  it  in  a  way  wherein  they  are  satisfied. 
And  why  not  ? 

"  The  use  he  made  of  the  indulgence  was  that  what  he 
did  before  to  his  familj^  at  his  own  house,  and  in  private,  the 
doors  being  shut  for  fear,  he  now  did  more  publicly ; 
throwing  his  doors  open,  and  welcoming  his  neighbours 
to  partake  of  his  spiritual  things.  He  had  only  one  sermon 
in  the  evening  of  the  Lord's  day,  when  there  was  preach- 
ing at  Whitewell  Chapel,  where  he  still  continued  his 
attendance  with  his  family  and  friends  as  usual ;  but 
when  there  was  not,  he  spent  the  whole  public  time  in 
the  services  of  the  day,  exposition  of  the  Scriptures  read, 
and  preaching,  with  prayer  and  praise.  This  he  did 
gratis,  receiving  nothing  for  his  labours,  either  at  home 
or  abroad,  but  the  satisfaction  of  doing  good  to  souk, 
with  the  trouble  and  charge  of  giving  entertainment  to 
many  of  his  friends,  which  he  did  with  much  cheerful 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


189 


ness  ;  and  he  would  say,  he  sometimes  thought  that  the 
bread  did  even  multiply  in  the  breaking  ;  and  he  found 
that  God  did  abundantly  bless  his  provision  with  that 
blessing,  which,  as  he  used  to  say,  will  make  a  little 
j  go  a  great  way.    He  was  wont  to  observe,  for  the  en- 
'  couragement  of  such  as  had  meetings  in  their  houses, 
;  which  sometimes  drew  upon  them  inconveniences, — That 
•  the  ark  is  a  guest  that  always  pays  well  for  its  entertain- 
:  ment.    And  he  noted,  that  when  Christ  had  borrowed 
I  Peter's  boat  to  preach  a  sermon  out  of  it,  he  presently 
j  repaid  him  for  the  loan  with  a  '  gi-eat  draught  of  fishes.' 
j     "  While  this  liberty  lasted,  he  preached  many  lectures 
!  abroad  in  Shropshire,  Cheshire,  and  Denbighshire,  laying 
I  out  himself  exceedingly  for  the  good  of  souls,  spending 
,  and  being  spent  in  the  work  of  the  Lord."    Yet  in  all  his 
labours  in  the  cause  of  his  Master,  the  spirit  of  meekness 
I  and  love  is  ever  apparent.    He  reminds  us  cf  the  beloved 
I  apostle  John.    The  breathings  of  love  are  ever  coming 
.  from  his  lips,  and  the  charity  that  beareth  all  things,  be- 
I  lieveth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endure  th  all  things, 
,  never  failed  him  ;  but  made  him  content  to  be  a  fellow- 
labourer  even  with  his  persecutors  and  supplanters,  so 
that  he  was  only  satisfied  it  was  in  the  cause  of  truth, 
^  How  sad  is  the  thought  that  so  eminent  and  faithful  a 
j  servant  of  Christ  should  have  been  hindered  on  his  great 
I  embassy. 

[  "  Whatever  lectureships,"  says  his  son,  "  were  set  up 
.  in  the  country  round,  it  was  still  desired  that  Mr.  Henry 
I  would  begin  them,  as  no  small  encouragement  to  those 
who  were  to  carry  them  on  ;  and  very  happy  he  was, 
I  both  in  the  choice  and  management  of  his  subjects  at 


190 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


such  opportunities,  seeking  to  find  out  acceptable  worda 
Take  one  specimen  of  his  address,  when  he  began  a  lec- 
ture with  a  sermon  on  Hebrews  xii.  15.  I  assure  you, 
says  he,  and  God  is  my  witness,  I  am  not  come  to  preach 
either  sedition  against  the  peace  of  the  state,  or  schism 
against  the  peace  of  the  church,  by  persuading  you  to 
this  or  that  opinion  or  party ;  but  as  a  minister  of  Christ, 
that  hath  received  mercy  from  the  Lord,  desiring  to  be 
faithful,  my  errand  is  to  exhort  you  to  all  possible  serious- 
ness in  the  great  business  of  your  eternal  salvation,  ac- 
cording to  my  text,  which  if  the  Lord  will  make  as  pro- 
fitable to  you,  as  it  is  material  and  of  weight  in  itself, 
neither  you  nor  I  shall  have  cause  to  repent  our  coming 
hither,  and  our  being  here  to-day  ;  looking  diligently, 
lest  any  of  you  fail  of  the  grace  of  God.  If  it  were  the 
last  sermon  I  were  to  preach,  I  do  not  know  how  to  take 
my  aim  better  to  do  you  good. 

"  In  doing  this  work,  he  often  said,  that  he  looked  upon 
himself  but  as  an  assistant  to  the  parish  ministers,  in 
promoting  the  common  interests  of  Christ's  kingdom,  and 
the  common  salvation  of  souls,  by  the  explication  and 
application  of  those  great  truths,  wherein  we  are  all 
agreed.  He  would  compare  the  case  to  that  in  Heze* 
kiah's  time,  when  the  Levites  helped  the  priests  to  kil 
the  sacrifice,  which  was  something  of  an  irregularity,  but 
the  exigence  of  affairs  called  for  it  ;  the  priests  being  too 
few,  and  some  of  them  not  so  careful  as  they  should  have 
been  to  sanctify  themselves ;  and  wherever  he  preached,  he 
usually  prayed  for  the  parish  minister,  and  for  a  blessing 
upon  his  ministry.  He  has  often  said  how  well  pleased 
he  was,  when,  after  he  had  preached  a  lecture  at  Oswes- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRT. 


191 


ry,  he  went  to  visit  the  minister  of  the  place,  Mr.  Ed- 
vards,  a  worthy  man,  and  told  him,  he  had  been  sowing 
;  handful  of  :  eed  among  his  people.  The  good  man's 
inswer  was  : — That's  well,  the  Lord  prosper  your  seed 
.nd  mine  too,  there  is  need  enough  of  us  both. 

"  It  was  at  the  beginning  of  this  liberty,  that  the 
iociety  at  Broad  Oak  commenced  ;  made  up,  besides  their 
neighbourhood,  of  some  out  of  Whitchurch,  and  Whit- 
.3hurch  parish,  that  had  been  Mr.  Porter's  people,  some 
Dut  of  Hanmer  parish,  that  had  been  Mr.  Steel's,  and 
isome  out  of  the  parish<»s  of  "Wem,  Frees,  and  Ellesmere. 
Persons  generally  of  very  moderate  principles,  quiet  and 
peaceable  lives,  and  hearty  well-wishers  to  the  King  and 
government ;  and  not  rigid  or  schismatical  in  their  se- 
paration, but  willing  to  attend  though  sometimes  with 
difficulty  and  hazard,  upon  those  administrations  which 
they  found  most  lively  and  edifying,  and  most  helpful  to 
ithera,  in  the  great  business  of  working  out  their  salvation. 
iTo  this  society  he  would  never  call  himself  a  pastor,  nor 
jwas  he  willing  that  they  should  call  him  so;  but  a  helper, 
land  a  minister  of  Christ  for  their  good.  He  would  say, 
j — That  he  looked  upon  liis  family  only  as  his  charge,  and 
Ihis  preaching  to  others  was  but  accidental,  whom  if  they 
came,  he  could  no  more  turn  away,  than  he  could  a  poor 
hungry  man,  that  should  come  to  his  door  for  an  alms. 
And  being  a  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  he  thought  him- 
iself  bound  to  preach  the  gospel,  as  he  had  opportunity. 
I  "Usually  once  a  month  he  administered  the  ordinance 
!of  the  Lord's  supper.  Some  of  his  opportunities  of  that 
'kind  he  particularly  remarks  upon,  as  sweet  sealing  days, 
on  which  he  found  it  good  to  draw  near  to  God. 


192 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


"  When,  about  the  year's  end,  there  was  a  general  ex- 
pectation of  the  cancelling  of  the  indulgence,  he  has  this 
note  upon  a  precious  sabbath  and  sacrament  day,  as  he 
calls  it; — 'Perhaps  this  maybe  the  last;  Father,  thy 
will  be  done  ;  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  at  such  uncertain- 
ties; for  now  we  receive  our  liberty  from  our  Father 
fresh  every  day,  which  is  best  and  sweetest  of  all.' 

"  In  the  spring  and  summer  of  1673,  he  preached  at 
Broad  Oak,  on  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son,  in  about 
forty  sermons.  Many  who  got  good  to  their  souls  by 
those  sermons,  earnestly  desired  the  publishing  of  them, 
and  he  was  almost  persuaded ;  but  his  modesty  proved  in- 
vincible, and  it  was  never  done. 

"  When  an  end  was  put  to  that  gleam  of  liberty,  which 
had  continued  about  three  years,  he  was  preaching  upon 
the  parable  of  the  barren  fig-tree,  '  These  three  years  do 
I  come  seeking  fruit,'  and  observed  how  the  word  of  God 
was  fulfilled, — though  not  cut  down,  yet  cut  short, — ^in 
opportunities." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

TITUS  GATES  AND  THE   POPISH  PLOTS. 

The  history  of  Nonconformists  during  the  reign  of 
Charles  IL,  is  characterized  by  constant  intermissions  of 
hope  and  fear,  dependent  on  the  faithless  pusillanimity 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


193 


of  his  corrupt  court.  Sometimes  the  influence  of  the  Duke 
of  York,  afterwards  James  II.,  was  employed  to  lighten 
the  burden  of  these  oppressive  enactments,  against  the 
Protestant  Dissenters,  in  order  that  the  Romish  Church 
might  avail  itself  of  the  toleration  to  secure  a  firmer 
basis  in  the  land.  At  other  times,  the  opposition  of  parlia- 
ment, or  the  fears  of  the  government,  led  to  some  attempts 
at  conciliating  the  numerous  body  of  Nonconformists 
throughout  the  kingdom.  But  in  all  these  instances 
of  relaxed  severity  the  Dissenters  from  the  established 
creed  were  left  entirely  dependent  on  the  caprice  of  the 
court,  and  without  any  sufficient  or  trust-worthy  legal 
security  for  peace  and  toleration. 

In  1674,  Charles  summoned  the  bishops  together  to 
advise  with  him  as  to  the  best  means  for  giving  security 
to  religion,  and  after  various  consultations  with  them, 
and  with  the  ministers  of  state,  the  result  was  that  all 
licenses  granted  to  the  Nonconformist  ministers  were  de- 
clared void,  and  the  laws  were  ordered  to  be  enforced  with 
the  utmost  rigour  'against  Papists  and  conventicles." 
The  following  year  the  pious  men  among  the  clergy  of 
tlie  Church  of  England  were  excited  to  great  apprehen- 
sions of  the  danger  of  Popery,  and  the  manifest  advances 
it  was  making  under  favour  of  the  partiality  of  the  Duke 
of  York,  and  the  ill-concealed  inclinations  of  the  King. 
Bishop  Morley  and  Bishop  Ward  were  particularly  de- 
sirous of  bringing  about  a  reconciliation  with  the  Noncon- 
formists, and  at  length  Dr.  Tillotson  and  Dr.  Stillingfleet 
!had  a  meeting  with  several  of  their  leading  ministers  in 
'London,  and  went  so  far  as  to  draw^  up  an  agreement  of 
mutual  co-operation,  in  which  they  heartily  concurred;  but 


194 


LIFE  AHD  TIMES  OF 


the  influence  of  the  court  and  the  high-church  party 
eflfectually  prevented  it  leading  to  any  good  result. 

On  the  failure  of  this  attempted  reconciliation,  persecu- 
tion broke  out  anewagainst  the  Nonconformists,  especially 
in  London,  and  many  men  of  infamous  lives  made  a 
trade  of  hunting  out  their  meetings  and  informing  against 
them.  Popular  feeling,  however,  no  longer  sided  with 
the  restoration-government.  The  aldermen  of  the  city 
in  every  way  discouraged  these  informers,  frequently  re- 
fusing their  warrants,  or  getting  out  of  the  way  when 
they  learned  of  their  intention  to  apply  to  them.  On  one 
occasion  when  several  of  the  bishops  were  dining  with 
Sir  Nathaniel  Hern,  who  was  Sheriff  of  London  in  1676, 
and  some  of  them  remarked  on  the  necessity  of  en- 
forcing the  laws  against  Dissent ;  The  Sheriff  replied, 
'•'that  they  could  not  trade  with  their  neighbours  one 
day,  and  send  them  to  jail  the  next."  Popular  feehng 
it  is  obvious  was  fast  forsaking  the  restoration-govern- 
ment, whose  glitter  and  fair  words  had  won  its  suffrages 
for  a  time,  and  was  once  more  enlisting  itself  on  the  side 
of  those  who  were  sufferers  for  conscience'  sake. 

The  same  influence  began  to  show  itself  throughout 
the  country,  and  was  soon  felt  and  taken  advantage  of 
by  Philip  Henry ;  his  son  after  alluding  to  an  interval 
ofthree  years  during  which  hisfather  had  enjoyed  consider- 
able liberty,  but  which  was  put  an  end  to  about  the  year 
1764,  remarks  :  "  However,  after  ayear  or  two,  there  was 
such  a  general  connivance  of  authority,  that  the  meet- 
ings grew  again  as  full  as  ever,  especially  at  Broad  Oak; 
the  neighbouring  magistrates  of  Flintshire  being  very 
civil,  and  not  willing  to  give  trouble  to  one  who  was  so 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


195 


•  ery  peaceable  and  obliging, — for  which  he  would  often 
;ive  thanks  to  God,  who  hath  the  hearts  of  all  men  in  his 
lands. 

'  "  On  the  3d  of  March,  1676-7,  being  Saturday  night, 
ihe  town  of  Wem,  in  Shropshire,  about  six  miles  from 
'Broad  Oak,  was  burnt  down,  the  church,  market-house, 
ind  about  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  dwelling-houses, 
'ind  one  man  killed  in  little  more  than  an  hour's  time, 
',he  wind  being  exceedingly  violent ;  at  which  time  Mr. 
•Henry  was  very  helpful  to  his  friends  there,  both  for 
';heir  support,  and  their  improvement  of  this  sad  provi- 
'lence.  Only  about  half  a  year  before,  a  threatening 
pre  had  broken  out  in  that  town,  but  did  little  hurt, 
Some  serious  people  there,"  says  his  son,  "  soon  after  cele- 
arated  a  thanksgiving  for  their  deliverance,  on  which 
occasion  Mr.  Henry  preached  to  them  from  the  words  of 
iZechariah.  '  Is  not  this  a  brand  plucked  out  of  the  fire  V 
in  the  close  of  that  sermon,  pressing  them,  from  the 
consideration  of  that  remarkable  deliverance,  to  personal 
reformation  and  amendment  of  life  ;  that  those  who  had 
been  proud,  covetous,  passionate,  liars,  swearers,  drunkards, 
'sabbath-breakers,  would  be  so  no  more ;  he  added, — If 
this  providence  have  not  this  effect  upon  you,  you  may 
In  reason  expect  another  fire  ;  for  when  God  judgeth  he 
will  overcome  ;  and  reminded  them  where  it  is  so  often 
threatened  against  those  who  walk  contrary  to  God,  that 
'■  he  would  punish  them  yet  seven  times  more.'  The  re- 
membrance of  this  could  not  but  be  affecting,  when,  in 
iso  short  a  time  after,  the  whole  town  was  laid  in  ruins. 
The  first  time  he  went  thither  after  that  calamity,  a 
leighbouring  justice,  having  notice  of  it,  sent  to  forbid 


196 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


him  to  preach,  to  his  own  grief^  as  well  as  to  the  grief  of 
many  others,  who  came  expecting.  But,  saith  he  in 
his  diarj^,  there  was  a  visible  sermon  before  us,  the  ruins 
preaching,  that  sin  is  an  evil  thing,  and  God  a  terrible 
God.  However,  Philip  Henry  was  peculiarily  earnest 
in  his  desire  to  turn  to  account  every  striking  instance 
of  '  the  goodness  and  the  severity  of  God,'  and  a  few  days 
after  he  found  opportunity  of  preaching  to  them  from 
Hosea  vi.  1. — '  Come,  and  let  us  return  unto  the  Lord, 

for  he  hath  torn  '.    And  at  the  return  of  the  year, 

when  the  town  was  rebuilding,  he  gave  them  another  very 
suitable  sermon,  from  Proverbs  iii.  33.  '  The  curse  of  the 
Lord  is  in  the  house  of  the  wicked,  but  he  blesseth  the 
habitation  of  the  just.'  Though  it  be  rising  again,  he 
adds  in  his  diary,  out  of  its  ashes,  yet  the  burning  of  it 
should  not  be  forgotten." 

Soon  after  tliis,  the  whole  nation  was  thrown  into  con- 
sternation and  alarm,  by  the  discovery  of  the  Popish 
Plot,  in  the  trials  resulting  fi-om  which,  Titus  Gates  ac- 
quired such  infamous  notoriety.  Gates  was  the  son  of  a 
ribbon  weaver  who  had  been  at  one  time  a  preacher  atoong 
the  Baptists.  He  was  educated  at  Mgrcliant  Taylors 
School,  London,  and  at  the  University  of  Caipbridge,  and 
took  orders  in  the  Church  of  England.  He  subsequently 
turned  Roman  Catholic,  and  entered  the  Jesuits'  College 
at  St.  Gmer.  From  thence  he  was  dismissed  ;  and  re- 
turning to  England,  he  proceeded  to  turn  the  knowledge 
he  had  acquired  among  them  to  the  best  account  for  him- 
self by  informing  against  them.  "  In  September,  1678, 
he  made  a  disclosure  before  Sir  Edmundbury  Godfrey, 
a  noted  and  active  justice  of  the  peace,  and  afterwards 


I  THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRT  197 

before  tlie  council  and  the  House  of  Commons,  to  the 
eflfect  '  that  the  Pope  felt  himself  entitled  to  the  posses- 
sion of  England  and  Ireland,  on  account  of  the  heresy  of 
prince  and  people,  and  had  accordingly  assumed  the  so- 
vereignty of  these  kingdoms  ;  that  power  to  govern  thnn 
had  been  delegated  by  the  Pope  to  the  society  of  Jesuit-, 
who,  through  Oliva,  the  general  of  their  order,  had  issued 
commissions  appointing  various  persons  whom  they  could 
trust  to  the  chief  ofl&ces  of  state,  both  civil  and  military. 
Lord  Arundel,  he  said,  was  to  be  chancellor*;  Lord  Powis, 
I  treasurer;  Lord  Bellasis,  general  of  the  papal  army; 
'  Lord  Stafford,  paymaster  ;  Sir  William  Godolphin,  privy 
'  seal ;  and  Coleman,  secretary  of  state.  All  the  dignities 
too  of  the  church,  he  alleged  to  be  newly  approprl- 
'  ate.d,  and  many  of  them  to  Spaniards  ^d  other  foreigners, 
i  Two  men  named  Grove  and  Pickering,  he  declared,  were 
'  hired  to  shoot  the  King,  and  that  Sir  George  Wakeman, 
■  the  Queen's  physician,  had  engaged  to  poison  him,  the 
'  Queen  herself  being  privy  to  the  scheme.  He  also  stated 
I  that  the  Roman  Catholics  were  to  rise  in  different  dis- 
!  tricts  of  the  kingdom,  and  tiiat  every  means  would  be 
adopted  for  the  extirpation  of  Protestantism.'  His  evi- 
dence was  confii-med  by  two  men  named  Tonge  and 
'  Bedloe,  especially  the  latter,  a  man  of  low  extraction, 
'  and  bad  reputation.  (For  Tonge  see  Evelyn's  Memoirs, 
•  8vo,  vol.  ii.  p.  450  ;  for  Bedloe,  Lingard,  vol.  xiii.  p.  97, 
'  and  Hume.)  For  the  list  of  persons,  both  Jesuits  and 
men  of  importance  in  this  kingdom  who  suffered  im- 
prisonment and  execution  through  the  accusation  of 
Gates,  we  must  refer  to  the  general  liistories  of  the  time. 
"  Notwithstanding  the  almost  universal  credence  which 


198 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


was  given  to  him  at  the  time,  it  has  subsequently  been 
placed  beyond  doubt  that  the  plot  which  Gates  pretended 
to  reveal  was  an  infamous  and  perjured  fabrication.  His 
circumstances,  his  character,  the  nature  of  his  evidence, 
the  manner  of  its  production,  not  at  one  time,  but  at 
several  times,  though  he  had  previously  professed  to 
have  told  all  that  he  knew,  the  mode  in  which  the  first 
disclosure  was  made,  together  with  his  inconsistency  and 
errors,  evidently  betray  imposture.  '  While  in  Spain,  he 
had  been  caified,  he  said,  to  Don  John,  who  promised 
great  assistance  to  the  execution  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
designs.  The  King  asked  him  what  sor^  of  a  man  Don 
John  was  ?  He  answered,  a  tall,  lean  man  ;  directly 
contrary  to  the  truth,  as  the  King  well  knew.  He  totally 
mistook  the  situation  of  the  Jesuits'  College  at  Pai-is. 
Though  he  pretended  great  intimac}"  with  Coleman,  he 
did  not  know  him  when  placed  very  near  liim,  and 
had  no  other  excuse  than  that  his  siglit  was  bad  in 
candle-light.'  He  also  fell  into  other  errors.  We 
mention  these  particular  proofs  of  falsehood,  but  little 
reliance  can  be  placed  on  the  evidence  of  a  man  who,  if 
his  word  was  to  be  believedj  had  entered  the  Jesuits' 
society  with  the  sole  purpose  of  '  gaining  their  secrets  in 
order  to  beti-ay  them.' 

"  It  may  be  urged,  that  the  universal  credit  given  to 
Gates's  evidence  at  the  time  is  a  strong  proof  that  his 
story  was  true.  There  are  circumstances  however  which 
account  for  the  ready  belief  with  which  his  accusations 
were  received,  although  they  do  not  prove  their  truth. 

"The  Enghsh  Protestants  had  long  apprehended 
an  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  Roman  Catholics  to 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


199 


restore  their  religion  and  re-establish  their  power ;  and 
their  anxiety  on  this  account  had  latterly  been  aug- 
mented in  some  degree  by  the  conduct  of  the  King,  and 
in  a  still  greater  degree  by  the  Duke  of  York's  open  pro- 
i  fession  of  the  old  religion  and  his  attachment  to  its 
I  adherents.  Moreover,  there  were  immediately  connected 
;  with  Oates's  disclosure  two  events,  giving  it  an  appar- 
I  ent  corroboration,  which  was  eagerly  assumed  to  be  real 
by  the  feverish  minds  of  contemporary  partizans.  The 
I  first  of  these  was  the  sudden  and  violent  death  of  Sir 
.  Edmundbury  Godfrej'',  the  magistrate  who  had  taken 
Oates's  depositions,    No  proofs  could  be  adduced  to  show 
the  manner  of  his  death.  Whether  he  committed  suicide 
or  was  murdered  has  never  been  ascertained  ;  but  the 
fact  that  he  had  ta,ken  Oates's  evidence,  and  had  been 
active  in  searching  out  the  supposed  plot,  was  sufficient 
to  convince  the  Protestants,  excited  as  they  then  were, 
that  he  had  been  murdered  by  Roman  Catholics,  partly 
out  of  revenge,  and  partly  to  aid  the  escape  of  their  con- 
spirators.   The  second  apparent  coiToboration  of  Oates's 
evidence,  which,  though  no  real  confirmation,  had  at  the 
time  an  influence  in  maintaining  its  credibility,  is, 
that  it  did  actually  lead  to  the  discovery  of  a  plot, 
though  not  sucli  a  plot  as  he  disclosed.  *  Oates 
denounced  Coleman,  the  secretary  of  the  Duchess  of 
York  ;  and  upon  searching  his  house  there  were  found, 
among  his  correspondence  with  Pere  la  Chaise,  papers 
whicli  proved  a  combination  for  the  purpose  of  re-esta- 
blishing Roman  Catholicism  in  England.    That  it  was  a 
plot,  that  it  was  on  the  part  of  the  Roman  Catholics,  and 
*  Hallam,  Const  Hist  iL  p.  571. 


200 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


discorered  tlirougn  Gates,  was  suflBcient  in  the  then 
temper  of  Protestants,  to  reflect  credit  on  his  disclosures, 
though  Coleman's  plans  did  not  coincide  with  the 
schemes  which  Gates  pretended  to  have  discovered,"* 

While  the  influence  of  this  ill-regulated  zeal  against 
Popery  lasted,  it  stayed  the  persecution  against  the  Non- 
conformists, and  verj"^  great  exertions  were  made,  hoth  in 
and  out  of  parliament,  to  secure  the  Protestant  religion 
from  further  encroachments,  by  excluding  the  Duke  of 
York  from  the  throne,  on  account  of  liis  adherence  to 
Popery.    During  this  interval  of  toleration,  or  oversight 
of  Nonconformity,  Philip  Henry  renewed  his  ministra- 
tions at  Broad  Gak  with  great  zeal,  and  with  much  suc- 
cess.   In  particular,  he  preached  a  series  of  sermons  on 
the  Ten  Commandments,  with  much  good  fruit  attending 
on  his  labours.    Yet  he  was  never  betrayed  into  too  great 
confidence  for  the  future  by  these  passing  gleams  of 
liberty.    Preaching  at  this  time  from  the  divine  exhor- 
tation, "  Be  ye  doers  of  the  word,  and  not  hearers  only," 
he  pressed  on  his  hearers  "  the  necessity  of  doing  as  well 
as  hearing  ;  from  the  divine  assurance,  that  a  stormy  day 
is  coming  shortly,  when  hearers  only  will  be  found  fools, 
and  suffer  loss  ;  whereas  hearers  and  doers  will  be  owned 
for  wise  people,  and  will  have  the  comfort  of  it.  What 
work,  he  remarks,  some  one  will  object,  is  here  about  doing, 
doing  !    If  I  had  preached,  he  proceeds,  these  sermons, 
I  know  where,  I  had  certainly  been  called  a  legal  preacher, 
if  not  a  Papist,  a  Jesuit,  a  preacher  of  works  ;  and  some 
would  have  said.  We  will  never  hear  him  again.    If  to 
preach  on  these  things  be  legal  preaching,  then  our  Lord 
•  Penny  Cyclopaedia,  article  Oates. 


I  THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  201 

dimself  was  a  legal  preacher,  for  you  see  they  were  his 
sayings  all  along  that  I  took  for  my  text  to  each  sermon. 
3uch  a  preacher  as  he  was,  may  I  be,  in  my  poor  mea- 
sure. I  cannot  write  after  a  better  copy.  I  cannot  tread 
in  better  steps.  His  sayings  must  be  done,  as  well  as 
heard,  that  we  may  answer  his  end  in  saying  them,  which 
was  to  promote  holiness  ;  that  we  may  approve  ourselves 
his  true  kindred  ;  that  God  may  be  glorified  ;  that  our 
profession  may  be  beautified  ;  and  that  our  building  may 
stand.  But  they  must  be  done  aright.  The  tree  must 
be  good.  All  must  be  done  by  faith,  and  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord  Jesus,  with  evenness  and  constancy,  with  hu- 
mility and  self-denial,  in  charity,  and.with  perseverance 
and  continuance." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

JUDGE  JEFFRIES  AND  THE  BISHOP  OF  ST.  ASAPH. 

While  the  political  changes  of  the  period,  and  the 
vices  and  apprehensions  of  the  court,  were  influencing 
the  fortunes  and  happiness  of  the  affectionate  family- 
'  circle  at  Broad  Oak,  the  children  who  had  been  bom 
there,  were  growing  up  under  their  parents'  eyes,  "  in 
wisdom  and  stature."  In  the  year  1680,  when  Matthew, 
t  the  biographer,  and  eminently  distinguished  inheritor  of 
Philip  Henry's  piety  and  genius,  had  nearly  completed  his 
eighteenth  year,  his  father  took  him  to  London,  and  en- 


202 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


tered  him  as  a  pupil  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Thomas  Doo- 
little,  a  pious  Nonconformist  minister,  who  then  kept  a 
school  at  Islington.  The  following  extract  from  a  letter 
written  by  Matthew  Henry  to  his  sisters,  soon  after  his 
arrival  in  London,  affords  an  interesting  glimpse  of  the 
Nonconformist  meetings  in  the  capital  at  that  period  : 
while  it  gives  us  some  idea  of  the  lively  and  intelligent 
youth,  who  afterwards  became  so  eminent  a  Christian 
minister  : 

"  On  Saturday  my  father  went  to  Islington,  and  I  went 
to  cousin  Hotchkiss  and  Mr.  Church's.  Mr.  Church  came 
with  us  to  see  first  Bedlam  and  then  the  monument.  The 
monument  is  almost  like  a  spire  steeple,  set  up  in  the 
place  where  the  great  fire  began.  It  is  345  steps  high, 
and  thence  we  had  a  sight  of  the  whole  city.  Yesterday 
we  went  to  j\Ir.  Doolittle's  meeting-place  ;  his  church  I 
may  call  it,  for  I  believe  there  is  many  a  church  that 
wiU  not  hold  so  many  people.  There  are  several  gal- 
leries ;  it  is  all  pewed  ;  and  a  brave  pulpit,  a  great  height 
above  the  people.  They  began  between  nine  and  ten  in 
the  morning,  and  after  the  singing  of  a  psalm,  ]Mr.  Doo- 
little  first  prayed  and  then  preached,  and  that  was  alL 
His  text  was  Jer.  xvii.  9.  In  the  afternoon  my  father 
preached  on  Lam.  iii.  22,  at  the  same  place.  Indeed, 
Mr.  Lawrence  told  him  at  first  he  must  not  come  to 
London  to  be  idle,  and  they  are  resolved  he  shall  not ; 
for  he  is  to  preach  the  two  next  sabbaths  I  believe, 
at  Mr.  Steel's  and  Mr.  Lawrence's.  On  Sabbath  night, 
about  five  o'clock,  cousin  Robert  and  I  went  to  another 
place  and  he^ird,  I  cannot  say  another  sermon,  but  a 
piece  of  another,  by  a  very  young  man,  one  Mr.  Shower, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


203 


and  a  most  excellent  sermon  it  was,  on  the  evil  of  sin. 
The  truth  was,  we  could  scarce  get  any  room,  it  was 
so  crowded." 

Soon  after  his  father's  return  home,  considerable 
,anxiety  appears  to  have  been  occasioned  by  the  indispo- 
sition of  young  Matthew,  as  appears  from  the  foliowinff 
jletters,  the  first  of  which  is  written  by  Philip  Ileniy  to 
Jliis  son.  The  one  which  follows  it  appears  to  have  been 
Iwritten  to  a  relation  who  had  taken  some  charge  of 
iMatthew.  It  is  also  interesting  as  serving  to  throw^  some 
|light  on  the  transactions  of  the  period.  He  thus  writes 
jto  his  son  ; — 

"  My  deak  Child, 

'•Your  letter  to  mc  I  received,  and  your 
mother  also  hers.  In  the  former,  an  account  of 
>-our  being  busy,  at  which  we  were  glad ;  in  the 
latter,  of  your  being  not  well,  and  that  troubles  us  ; 
but  we  are  in  hope,  that  this  night's  post  will  bring 
us  better  tidings.  I  am  at  Boreatton,  wdiere  I  expected 
yom-  mother  this  morning,  as  we  appointed,  but,  instead 
:>f  coming  herself,  she  sends  Roger  with  your  two  let- 
ters, and  her  desire  to  me  to  answer  them  from  hence  by 
way  of  Shrewsbury.    My  Lord  Paget  intended  to  have 


I  week  sooner  than  I  expected,  and  caused  a  failure  at 
home  yesterday,  no  chapel-day ;  but  his  stay,  now,  is 
|till  next  week.  I  am  comforted,  that  you  acknowledge 
pod  in  your  distemper,  and  are  prepared  to  receive  with 
ipatience  what  he  appoints.  Though  you  are  at  a  dis- 
^nce  from  us  you  are  near  to  Him,  wdio,  according  to 
^  ^is  promise,  is  a  present  help  to  those  that  fear  him,  in 


ii 


204 


UPB  AND  TIMES  OP 


every  time  of  need.  Commend  us  to  Mr.  Doolittle,  and 
his  wife,  whose  tender  love  to  you,  and  care  concerning 
you,  we  shall  always  acknowledge  with  all  thankfulness  ; 
also  to  Cousin  Robert,  w^ho,  I  know,  will  help  to  bear 
your  burden.  The  Lord  Almighty  bless  you,  my  dear 
child,  and  cause  his  face  to  shine  upon  you,  and  send  us 
good  news  in  your  next  concerning  you.  Amen.  This 
from 

"  Your  loving  father, 

«  P.  H." 

August  16,  1680. 

The  following  are  portions  of  a  letter  written  about 
the  same  time  to  Mr.  Robert  Rosier,  the  same  who  is 
alluded  to  as  Cousin  Robert,  in  the  previous  letter.  The 
affectionate  display  of  parental  solicitude,  mingled  with 
Christian  resignation,  which  it  exhibits,  is  strikingly 
characteristic  of  its  author : — 

"  Dear  Cousin, 

"  I  received  yours  of  August  24  ;  the  former  part 
whereof,  which  was  concerning  yourself,  gave  cause 
for  a  great  deal  of  joy  and  thankfulness  to  our  good 
God,  that  you  are  so  w^ell  pleased  in  your  present 
circumstances  of  improvement ;  and,  I  hope,  will  be  so 
more  and  more.  I  pray,  be  careful,  in  a  special  man- 
ner, about  secret  communion  ;  for,  you  know,  as  that 
is  kept  up,  or  falls,  accordingly  the  soul  prospers.  Do 
not  over-tire  yourself  with  study,  especially  by  candle  ; 
fair  and  softly  goes  far.  Though  you  do  well  to  bewail 
your  loss  of  precious  time,  yet,  blessed  be  God  for  what 
you  have  redeemed  ;  and,  though  it  is  true,  as  things 
are  with  you,  now  is  your  time,  if  ever,  to  be  busy ;  yet 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


206 


health  and  strength  must  be  considered,  and  nothing 
done  to  over-drive. 

"  The  latter  part  of  your  letter,  which  was  concerning 
Matthew,  gave  us  some*trouble,  yet  I  thank  you  that 
you  were  so  large  and  particular  in  it.  We  have  freely 
yielded  him  up,  and  our  interest  in  him,  as  well  as  we 
can,  to  our  heavenly  Father  ;  and  his  will  be  done !  I 
have  written  to  him,  as  you  will  see, — if  he  be  willing 
and  able,  and  there  be  cause,  "with  advice  of  friends, — 
to  hasten  home  ;  and,  if  he  must  so  leave  you,  it  will  be 
an  instance, — that  man  purposes,  but  God  disposes. 

"  Present  my  dear  love  and  respects  to  Mr.  Doolittle, 
and  to  his  wife,  to  whom  I  am  much  obliged  for  their 
kindness,  which  I  shall  ever  acknowledge,  whatever  the 
event  be.  Fail  not  to  wi-ite  as  there  may  be  occasion. 
Here  is  room  only  to  tell  you,  that  we  are  all  remem- 
bered to  you  ;  and,  particularly,  that  I  am, 
"  Your  true  friend, 

"P.  H. 

"  This  was  intended  for  the  superscription,  but  the 
paper  being  thin,  I  chose  to  enclose  it.  My  two  last 
sabbaths'  absence  hence,  so  quickly  after  the  former 
three  at  London,  though  I  designed  it  not,  hath  caused 
reports,  as  if  we  had  quite  done,  but  I  hope  it  is  not  so. 
To-morrow,  God  willing,  we  shall  set  the  plough  in  again, 
begging  of  God,  that  late  intermissions  may  quicken 
desires,  and  make  the  word  so  much  the  sweeter.  Con- 
cerning Matthew,  I  know  not  what  to  say  more  than  I 
have  said.  The  Lord  prepare  and  fit  us  for  evil  tidings  ? 
I  y^-Hl  not  say,  *  our  life  is  bound  up  in  the  life  of  the 
lad,'  but  much  of  the  comfort  of  our  life  is  ;  and  yet, 


206 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


Father,  '  thy  will  be  done  ! '  Our  cisterns  may,  and  will, 
dry  up,  first  or  last,  but  our  Fountain  remains  for  ever." 

"  In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1681,  in  April  and  May, 
the  country  was  greatly  afflicted  and  threatened  by  an 
extreme  drought ;  there  was  no  rain  for  several  weeks, 
and  the  grass  failed.  Com,  that  was  sown,  languished  ; 
and  much  that  was  intended  could  not  be  sown.  The 
like  had  not  been  known  for  many  years.  It  was  gener- 
ally apprehended  that  dearth  would  ensue,  especially  in 
that  country,  which  is  for  the  most  part  dry.  Several 
serious  people  being  together  at  this  time,  attending  the 
funeral  of  a  worthy  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  Mr.  Maiden, 
it  was  remarked,  how  requis  te  it  was  that  there  should 
be  some  time  set  apart  for  fasting  and  prayer  on  this  oc- 
casion. Thomas  Millington,  of  Weston,  in  Hodnet 
parish,  in  Shropshire,  desired  it  might  bo  at  his  house  ; 
and  a  day  was  named  for  the  meeting.  The  connivance 
of  autliority  was  presumed  upon,  because  no  disturbance 
of  meetings  was  heard  of  at  London,  or  anywhere  else. 
Mr.  Henry  was  desired  to  come  and  give  his  assistance. 
He  asked  upon  what  terms  they  stoo<l  with  their  neigh- 
bouring justices,  and  was  answered, — 'Well  enough.' 
The  drought  continuing  in  extremity,  some  that  had  not 
used  to  attend  such  meetings,  came  thither,  from  the  ap- 
prehension they  had  of  the  threatening  judgment  which 
the  country  was  under.  Mr.  Edward  Bury,  of  Bolas, 
well  known  by  several  useful  books  he  published,  prayed ; 
after  which  Mr  Henry  prayed,  and  preached  on  Psalm 
Ixvi.  18. — '  If  I  regard  iniquity  in  my  heart,  the  Lord 
will  not  hear  me  ; '  whence  his  doctrine  was, — That  ini- 
quity, regarded  in  the  heart,  will  certainly  spoil  the  suo- 


THE  REV,  PHILIP  HENRY. 


207 


.'^ess  of  prayer.  When  he  v/as  in  the  midst  of  his  ser- 
mon, closely  applying  this  truth,  Sir  Thomas  Vernon,  of 
Hodnet,  and  Mr.  Mainwaring,  of  Ightfield,  two  justices 
of  the  peace  for  Shropshbe,  with  several  others  of  their 
retinue,  came  suddenly  upon  them  ;  disturbed  them,  set 
guards  upon  the  house-door,  and  came  in  themselves. 
They  severely  rallied  all  they  knew,  reflected  upon  the 
late  House  of  Commons,  and  the  vote  they  passed  con- 
cerning the  unseasonableness  of  putting  the  laws  in  exe- 
cution against  Protestant  Dissentei-s,  as  if,  in  so  voting, 
they  had  acted  beyond  their  sphere,  as  they  did  who 
took  away  the  life  of  King  Charles  I.  They  diverted 
themselves  with  very  abusive  and  unbecoming  talk  ; 
sweai'ing,  and  cursing,  and  reviling  bitterly.  Being  told 
the  occ^ion  of  the  meeting  was  to  '  seek  to  turn  away 
the  anger  of  God  from  us  '  in  the  present  drought,  it  was 
answered  ; — '  Such  meetings  as  these  were  the  cause  of 
God's  anger.'  While  they  were  thus  entertaining  them- 
selves, their  clerks  took  the  names  of  those  that  were 
present,  in  all,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty,  and  so  dis- 
missed them  for  the  present.  Mr  Heniy  has  noted,  in 
the  account  he  kept  of  this  event,  that  the  justices  came 
to  this  good  work  from  the  ale-house  upon  Frees  Heath, 
about  two  miles  off :  to  which,  and  the  bowling-gi-een 
adjoining,  they,  with  other  justices,  gentlemen,  and 
clergj-men,  of  the  neighbourhood,  had  long  before  obliged 
themselves  to  come  every  Tuesday,  dming  the  summer 
time,  under  the  penalty  of  twelvepence  a  time  if  they 
were  absent ;  and  there  to  spend  the  day  in  drinking  and 
bowling  ;  which  is  thought  to  be  as  direct  a  violation  of 
the  law  of  the  land  ;  viz.  the  statute  of  33d  Henry  VIIL 


208 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


cap.  9.  *  for  debarring  unlawful  games,'  which  was  never 
yet  repealed,  as  the  meeting  was  of  the  statute  of  22d 
Car.  II. ;  and,  as  much  more  to  the  dishonour  of  God, 
and  the  scandal  of  the  Christian  profession,  as  cursing, 
and  swearing,  and  drunkenness,  are  worse  than  praying, 
and  singing  psalms,  and  hearing  the  word  of  God.  It  is 
supposed  the  justices  knew  of  the  meeting,  and  might 
have  prevented  it  by  the  least  intimation  ;  but  they  were 
willing  to  take  the  opportunity  of  making  sport  to  tbem- 
selves,  and  trouble  to  their  neighbours.  After  this  feat 
done,  they  returned  back  to  the  ale-house,  and  made 
themselves  and  their  companions  merry  with  calling  over 
the  names  they  had  taken,  making  their  reflections  as 
they  saw  cause,  and  recounting  the  particulars  of  the  ex 
ploit.  There  was  one  of  the  company,  whose  wife  hap- 
pened to  be  present  at  the  meeting,  and  her  name  taken 
among  the  rest ;  and  when  they  upbraided  him  with  it, 
he  answered,  that  she  had  been  better  employed  than  he 
was,  and  if  Mr.  Henry  might  be  admitted  to  preach  in  a 
church,  he  would  go  a  great  many  miles  to  hear  him. 
For  these  words  he  was  forthwith  expelled  their  com- 
pany, nevermore  to  show  his  face  at  that  bowling-gi-een ; 
to  which  he  replied, — if  they  had  so  ordered  long  ago,  it 
had  been  a  great  deal  better  for  him  and  his  family. 
Two  days  after  they  met  again  at  Hodnet,  where,  upon 
the  oath  of  two  witnesses,  who,  as  was  supposed,  were 
sent  on  purpose  to  inform,  they  signed  and  sealed  two 
records  of  conviction.  By  one  record,  they  convicted  the 
master  of  the  house,  and  fined  him  £20,  and  £5  more  as 
constable  of  the  town  that  year  ;  and,  with  him,  all  the 
persons  present,  whoso  names  they  had  taken^  and  fined 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


209 


them  5s.  a  piece,  and  issued  out  warrants  accordingly. 
By  another  record,  they  convicted  the  two  ministers,  Mr. 
Bury  and  Mr.  Henry.  The  act  makes  it  only  punish- 
able to  preach,  or  teach,  in  any  such  conventicle  ;  and 
yet  they  fined  Mr.  Bury  £20,  though  he  only  prayed,  and 
did  not  speak  one  word  in  the  way  either  of  preaching 
or  teaching,  not  so  much  as, — '  Let  us  pray  ; '  however, 
they  said,  '  Praying  was  teaching  and,  right  or  wrong, 
he  must  be  fined  ;  though  his  gi-eat  piety,  peaceableness, 
and  usefulness,  besides  his  deep  poverty,  one  would 
think,  might  have  pleaded  for  him,  against  so  palpable  a 
piece  of  injustice.  They  took  £l  off  his  fine,  and  laid 
it  upon  others,  as  they  saw  cause  ;  and,  for  the  remain- 
ing <£l3,  he  being  utterly  unable  to  pay  it,  they  took 
from  him,  by  distress,  the  bed  which  he  lay  upon,  with 
blanket  and  rug  ;  also,  another  feather-bed,  nineteen 
>air  of  sheets,  most  of  them  new  ;  of  which  he  could  not 

'.  ail  to  have  so  much  as  one  pair  returned  for  him  to 
Lie  in  ;  also,  books,  to  the  value  of  £5,  besides  brass  and 
pewter.  And,  though  he  was  at  this  time  perfectly  in- 
nocent of  that  heinous  crime  of  preaching  and  teaching, 
with  which  he  was  charged,  yet  he  had  no  way  to  right 
Jlimself,  but  by  appealing  to  the  justices  themselves  in 
quarter  sessions,  who  would  be  sure  to  affirm  their  owti 
decree,  as  the  justices  in  Montgomeryshire  had  done  not 
long  before  in  a  like  case,  especially  when  it  was  to  re- 
cover to  themselves  treble  costs.  So  the  good  man  sat 
down  with  his  loss,  and  '  took  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  his 
goods;'  knowing  in  himself,  that  he  had,  'in  heaven,  a 
better  and  a  more  enduring  substance.' 

"  But  Mr.  Henry  being  the  greatest  criminal,  and  hav- 


210 


ATO  TIMES  OP 


ing  done  the  most  miscliief,  must  needs  be  animadverted 
upon  accordingly  ;  and,  therefore  he  was  fined  £40  • 
the  pretence  of  which  was  this  :  In  the  year  1679,  Octo- 
ber 15,  Mr.  Kynaston,  of  Oatly^  a  justice  of  peace  in 
Shropshire,  meeting  him  and  some  others  coming,  as  he 
supposed,  from  a  conventicle,  he  was  pleased  to  record 
their  conviction,  upon  the  notorious  e\'idence  and  cir- 
cumstances of  the  fact.  The  record  was  filed  at  Sal(^ 
the  next  sessions  after,  but  no  notice  was  ever  sent  of  it, 
either  to  Mr.  Henrj',  or  the  justices  of  Flintshire  ;  nor 
any  prosecution  upon  it,  against  any  of  the  parties 
charged  ;  (the  reason  of  which,  Mr.  Henry,  in  a  narra- 
tive he  wrote  of  this  affair,  supposes  to  be  not  only  the 
then  favourable  posture  of  public  affairs  towards  Dissen- 
ters, but  also  the  particular  prudence  and  lenity  of  Mr. 
Kynaston  ;)  so  that,  having  never  smarted  for  this,  he 
could  not  be  supposed  to  be  deterred  from  the  like  of- 
fence ;  nor,  if  he  were  wTong  in  that  first  conviction,  had 
he  ever  any  opportunity  of  making  his  appeal.  How- 
ever, the  justices,  being  bent  on  treating  him  with  the 
utmost  severity,  thought  that  first  record  suflScient  to 
give  denomination  to  a  second  offence,  and  so  he  came  to 
be  fined  double.  This  conv  iction,  according  to  the  di- 
rection of  the  act,  they  certified,  to  the  next  adjoining 
justices  of  Flintshire,  who  had  all  along  carried  them- 
selves with  great  temper  and  moderation  towards  Mr. 
Henr^',  and  had  never  given  him  any  disturbance ; 
though,  if  they  had  been  so  minded,  they  had  not  wanted 
opportunities  :  but  they  were  now  compelled  to  execute 
the  sentences  of  the  Shropshire  justices.  It  was  much 
pressed  upon  him  to  pay  the  fine,  which  might  prevent 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


211 


his  own  loss  and  the  justices'  trouble.  But  he  was  not 
willing  to  do  it,  partly,  because  he  would  give  no  en- 
couragement to  such  prosecutions,  nor  voluntarily  re- 
ward the  informers  for  that  which  he  thought  they 

[  should  rather  be  punished  for ;  and  partly  because  he 

.  thought  himself  wronged  in  the  doubling  of  the  fine. 

,  Whereupon  his  goods  were  distrained  and  carried  away  ; 
in  the  doing  of  which  many  passages  occurred  which 
might  be  worth  the  noting,  but,  that  the  repetition  of  them 
would  perhaps  grate,  and  give  offence  to  some.  Let  it 
therefore  suffice,  waving  the  circumstances,  to  remem- 
ber only  that  their  warrant,  not  giving  them  authority 
to  break  open  doors,  nor  their  watchfulness  getting  them 

I  an  opportunity  to  enter  the  house,  they  carried  away 
about  thirty-three  cart-loads  of  goods  without  doors,  corn 
cut  upon  the  ground,  hay,  coals,  &c.    This  made  a  great 

inoise  in  the  country,  and  raised  the  indignation  of  many 
against  the  decrees  which  prescribed  this  severity  ;  while 

;Mr.  Henry  bore  it  with  his  usual  evenness  and  serenity 

I  of  mind,  not  at  all  moved  or  disturbed  by  it.  He  did 
not  boast  of  his  sufferings,  or  make  any  gi-eat  matter  of 
them  ;  but  would  often  say, — Alas,  this  is  nothing  to 

jwhat  others  suffer,  nor  to  what  we  ourselves  may  suffer 
before  we  die  !  " 

The  following  instances  afford  most  striking  and  re- 

,markable  examples  cf  the  restraining  hand  of  God 
checking  and  controling  one  of  the  most  infamous  per- 
verters  of  justice  during  that  disgi-aceful  reign  : 

"  Soon  after  this,  was  the  assizes  for  Flintshire  held  at 
Mold,  where  Sir  George  Jeffries,  afterwards  Lord  Chan- 
|Cellor,  then  Chief  Justice  of  Chester,  sat  Judge.    He  did 


212 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


notj  in  private  conversation,  seem  to  applaud  what  wa 
done  in  this  matter,  so  as  was  expected  ;  whether  out  ( 
a  private  pique  against  some  that  had  been  active  in  i 
or  for  what  other  reason  is  not  known  :  but  it  was  sai( 
he  pleasantly  asked  some  of  the  gentlemen,  by  what  ne^ 
law  they  pressed  carts,  as  they  passed  upon  their  occj 
sions  along  the  road,  to  carry  away  goods  distrained  for 
conventicle  ?  It  was  also  said,  that  he  spoke  with  som 
respect  of  Mr.  Henry ;  saying,  he  knew  him,  and  h 
character,  well,  and  that  he  was  a  great  friend  of  h: 
mother's,  (Mrs.  Jeffries  of  Acton,  near  Wrexham,  a  ver 
pious,  good  woman,)  and  that  sometimes,  at  his  mother 
request,  Mr.  Henry  had  examined  him  in  his  learninj 
when  he  was  a  school-boy,  and  had  commended  his  pr( 
ficiency.  It  was  much  wondered  at  by  many,  that,  < 
all  the  times  Sir  George  Jeffries  went  that  circuit,  thoug 
it  is  well  enough  known  what  was  his  temper,  and  wlu 
the  temper  of  that  time,  yet  he  never  sought  any  occj 
sion  against  Mr.  Henry,  nor  took  the  occasions  that  wei 
offered,  nor  countenanced  any  trouble  intended  hin 
though  he  was  the  only  Nonconformist  in  Flintshir 
One  passage  I  remember,  adds  his  son,  not  improper  1 
be  mentioned  ;  there  had  been  an  agreement  amoH 
some  ministers,  (I  think  it  began  in  the  West  of  Enj 
land,  where  Mr.  Allen  was,)  to  spend  some  time,  eitht 
in  secret,  or  in  their  families,  or  both,  between  six  an 
eight  o'clock  every  Monday  morning,  in  prayer  for  tl 
church  of  God,  and  for  the  land  and  nation,  more  full 
and  particularly  than  at  other  times,  and  to  make  the 
their  special  errand  at  the  throne  of  grace  ;  and  to  ei 
gage  as  many  of  their  praying  friends  as  ever  they  coul 


TOE  BSY.  PHILIP  HENRY, 


213 


X)  the  observance  of  it.  This  had  been  coraraunicated  to 
Mr.  Henry,  by  some  of  his  friends  at  London,  and  he 
Dunctually  observed  it  in  his  own  practice,  I  believe,  for 
Toany  years.  He  also  mentioned  it  to  some  of  his  ac- 
'luaintance,  who  did  in  like  manner  observe  it.  It  hap- 
oened  ih^t  one  in  Denbighshire,  to  whom  he  had  com- 
'nunicated  it,  was  so  well  pleased  with  it,  that  he  wrote 
'  ||)f  it  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  of  his  at  a  distance.  This  letter 
happened  to  £^11  into  hands  that  perverted  it,  and  made 
nformation  upon  it  against  the  writer  and  receiver  of 
Ihe  letter,  who  were  bound  over  to  the  assizes,  and  great 

-  Suspicions  Sir  George  Jefiries  had,  that  it  was  a  bi-anch 
^  l^f  the  Presbyterian  plot,  and  accordingly  he  rallied  the 
r  Parties  accused  severely. 

^     "It  appeared,  either  by  the  letter,  or  the  confession  of 

•  !he  parties,  that  they  received  the  project  from  Mr. 
^-  3enry,  which,  it  was  greatly  feared,  would  bring  him 
^  •nto  trouble  ;  but  Sir  George,  to  the  wonder  of  many, 

et  it  fall  and  never  inquired  farther  into  it.    It  seems, 

-  .here  are  some  men,  whose  '  ways  so  please  the  Lord, 
J  ihat  he  makes  even  their  enemies  to  be  at  peace  with 

•  ^hem,'  and  there  is  nothing  lost  by  trusting  in  God. 

a  I  "  Mr.  Henry,  at  the  next  assizes  after  he  was  distrained 
1!  ipon,  was  presented  by  one  of  the  high-constables, — 1, 
3  For  keeping  a  conventicle  at  his  house  ;  and  2.  For  sajing 
i  jJiat  the  law  for  suppressing  conventicles  ought  not  to  be 
:  bbeyed,  and  that  there  was  never  a  tittle  of  the  word  of 
:  jrod  in  it.  As  to  this  latter  presentment,  it  was  alto- 
j  i^ether  felse.  He  had  indeed,  in  discourse  \^-ith  the 
•:  Qigh-constable,  when  he  insisted  so  much  upon  the 
i  iaw,  which  required  him  to  be  so  rigorous  in  the  prose- 


214 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


cution,  objected  that  all  human  laws  vrere  not  to  be 
obeyed,  merely  because  they  were  laws.  But  as  to  any 
such  reflections  upon  the  law  he  suffered  by,  he  was  far 
from  it,  and  had  prudence  enough  to  keep  silence  at  that 
time  ;  for  it  was  an  evil  time  when  so  many  were  made 
offenders  for  a  word.  But  these  presentments  met  with 
so  little  countenance  from  Judge  Jeffries,  that  Mr.  Henry 
only  entered  his  appearance  in  the  prothonotary's  office, 
and  they  were  no  more  heard  of ;  wherein  he  acknow- 
ledged the  hand  of  God,  '  who  turneth  the  hearts  of  the 
children  of  men  as  the  rivulets  of  water.' 

"In  the  same  year,  1681,  happened  a  public  discourse  at 
Oswestry,  between  the  then  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  Dr. 
William  Lloyd,  mow  Bishop  of  Coventry  and  Lichfield,  and 
some  Nonconformist  ministers,  of  whom  Mr.  Henry  was 
one.  That  learned  Bishop,  at  his  first  coming  to  the 
diocese  of  St.  Asaph,  in  his  zeal  for  the  establishedj 
church,  was  bent  on  inducing  Dissenters  to  conform  to 
it ;  and  that  he  might  do  it  with  the  cords  of  a  man,  he 
resolved,  before  he  took  any  other  methods,  to  reason 
the  matter  with  them,  and  to  endeavour  to  effect  their 
conviction  by  discourse,  in  which  he  had  a  very  great 
felicity,  both  by  his  learning  and  temper. 

"  He  publicly  discoursed  with  the  Quakers  at  Llan- 
fyllin,  in  Montgomeryshire  ;  their  champion  was  Dr. 
Lloyd,  a  physician.  One  of  the  most  considerable  Non- 
conformist ministers  in  his  diocese  was  Mr.  James  Owen 
of  Oswestry,  then  very  young,  but  well  known  since  by 
his  learned  book,  which  he  calls  '  A  Plea  for  Scripture 
Ordination  proving  ordination  by  presbyters,  without 
diocesan  bishops,  to  be  valid,  (published  in  the  year  1694,) 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  215 

1 

ji  point  of  controversy  which  he  was  then  obh'ged,  in  his 
pwn  defence,  to  search  into.  The  Bishop  had  several 
;iiscourses  with  him  in  private  :  at  last  his  Lordship  was 
pleased  to  appoint  to  meet  him  in  the  touTi-hall  at  Os- 
»;vestry,  on  Tuesday,  September  27,  1681,  there  to  give 
account  'by  what  right  he  exercised  the  ministry, 
(lot  having  episcopal  ordination.'  He  directed  him  also 
;.o  procure  any  other  ministers  he  could  to  assist  him, 
ibr  he  would  be  glad  to  hear  what  any  of  them  had  to 
[ay  for  themselves.  The  notice  was  very  short,  not 
.bove  four  or  five  days.  Some,  whose  assistance  was  de- 
lired,  apprehended  it  might  do  more  hurt  than  good,  and 
aiglit  be  prejudicial  to  their  ovra  liberty,  and  therefore  de- 
ilined  it.  It  was  not  agreeable  to  Mr.  Henrj'-'s  mild  and 
Kiodest  temper,  to  appear  in  such  circumstances  ;  but  he 
/as  loath  to  desert  his  friend  Mr.  Owen,  and  so,  with  much 
mpoi-tunity  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  come  to  Oswestry, 
tt  the  time  appointed  ;  and  there  came  no  other  but  he 
nd  Mr.  Jonathan  Roberts,  of  Denbighshu-e,  in  the  diocese 
,f  Bangor,  a  plain  man  of  great  integi-ity,  and  a  very  good 
pholar.  The  Bishop  came,  according  to  appointment, 
fid  brought  with  him,  for  liis  assistant,  the  famous  Mr. 
[enry  Dodwell.  Mr.  Henrj%  who  was  utterly  a  stranger 
j)  the  Bishop,  pressed  hard  to  have  had  the  discourse  in 
private,  before  a  select  number,  but  it  would  not  be 
Ranted.  He  also  desired  his  Lordship  that  it  might  not 
je  expected  from  him,  being  of  another  diocese,  to 
ijike  part  in  the  discourse,  but  only  to  hear.  '  Nay, 
fr.  Henry,'  said  the  Bishop,  '  it  is  not  the  concern  of 
^y  diocese  alone,  but  it  is  the  common  cause  of  religion, 
^id  therefore  I  expect  you  should  interest  yourself  in  it 


216 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


more  than  as  a  hearer.'  The  Bishop  was  pleased  to  prt 
mise  that  nothing  that  should  be  said  by  way  of  argi 
ment  should  be  any  way  turned  to  the  prejudice  of  th 
disputants,  nor  advantage  taken  of  it  to  give  them  troubL 
There  were  present  divei-s"  of  the  clergy  and  gentry  ( 
the  country,  with  the  magistrates  of  the  town,  and 
great  number  of  people,  which  Mr.  Henry  would  gladl 
have  avoided,  as  he  never  loved  anything  that  made 
noise.  The  discourse  began  about  two  o'clock  in  th 
afternoon,  and  continued  till  between  seven  and  eight  a 
night  ;  much  was  said  pro  and  con,  touching  the  idcntit 
of  bishops  and  presbyters,  the  bishoping  and  unbishopin 
of  Timothy  and  Titus,  the  validity  of  Presbyterian  ord 
nation,  &c.  It  was  managed  with  a  great  deal  of  libert; 
and  not  under  the  strict  laws  of  disputation,  which  mad 
it  hard  to  give  any  tolerable  account  of  the  particula 
of  it.  The  Bishop  managed  his  part  of  the  conferenc 
with  a  great  deal  of  gravity,  calmness,  and  evenness  ( 
spuit,  and  therein  gave  an  excellent  pattern  to  all  tlu 
ai*e  in  such  stations. 

"  Two  days  after,  the  Bishop  wrote  a  very  obligin 
letter  to  Mr.  Henry,  to  signify  to  him  how  much  I 
was  pleased  with  the  good  temper  and  spirit  that  h 
found  in  him  at  Oswestry,  and  that  he  looked  upon  hii 
as  one  that  intended  well,  but  laboured  under  prejudicet 
and  to  desire  further  acquaintance  and  conversation  wit 
him  ;  particularly  that  he  would  come  to  him,  straight 
way,  to  Wrexham.  After  referring  to  some  practice 
debaters  whom  he  names,  who  had  contended  with  hii 
not  for  truth  but  for  victory,  the  Bishop  adds  : — Bu 
for  you,  Sir,  in  whom  I  saw  better  appearances,  I  woul 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  217 

go  a  good  way  to  have  an  intercourse  with  you,  could  I 
be  sure  of  finding  you  at  home  ;  and,  since  I  cannot  be 
sure  of  that,  I  send  this  bearer  to  desire  you  would  meet 
'me  at  Wrexham,  where  I  intend,  God  willing,  to  be  on 
'Friday  morning,  and  to  stay  all  day  ;  and  allow  me  as 
much  of  your  company  as  you  can.  Give  me  leave  to 
tell  you,  though  I  think  you  put  a  wrong  interpretation 
Vipon  2  Timothy  iv.  17,  it  is  probable  that,  in  thus 
thinking,  I  may  follow  a  prejudice  of  my  own  ;  and  I 
'iHOW  no  reason  to  suspect  this  in  myself,  but  on  account 
'^f  human  infirmity  ;  but,  I  make  bold  to  say,  with.  St. 
iustin,   I  cannot  be  a  heretic'     I  trust  God  will  keep 

tie  from  being  obstinate  in  any  error ;  for  I  know,  and 
esire  to  follow,  none  but  him.  If  you  are  of  the  same 
iisposition,  there  may  be  a  good  effect  of  this  meeting, 
howsoever,  there  can  be  no  bad  of  it,  as  far  as  I  am  able 
•0  judge.  God  direct  us  in  the  way  of  peace  and 
loliness  ! 

"  Your  humble  servant, 

"  In  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
"W.  St.  Asaph." 

September  29,  1680. 

About  three  months  after  he  sent  for  him  again  to 
hester;  in  both  which  interviews  a  gi-eat  deal  of  dis- 
ourse,  vdih  much  freedom,  passed  between  them  in 
'rivate,  in  which  they  seemed  to  vie  in  nothing  more 
|han  candour  and  obligingness,  sho\\'ing  to  each  other 
lall  meekness.'  The  Bishop  showed  him  his  plan  for 
\ie  government  of  his  diocese,  and  the  method  he  in- 
hnded  to  take  in  church-censures,  which  Mr.  Henry 
ery  well  approved  of;  but  pleasantly  told  his  Lordship, 


818 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


he  hoped  he  would  take  care  that  Juvenal's  verse  should 
not  be  again  verified : 

'Dot  veniam  corvis,  vexat  censura  columbas ;' 

Which  the  Bishop  smiled  at,  and  told  him  he  would  take 
care  it  should  not.  His  Lordship,  observing  his  true 
Catholic  charity  and  moderation,  told  liim  he  did  not 
look  upon  him  as  o^icr/xaTt/cos,  a  schismatic  ;  but  only 
as  Trapacrwdyoryos,  a  separatist ;  and,  that  if  he  were  in 
his  diocese,  he  did  not  question  but  that  he  should  find 
out  some  way  to  make  him  useful.  But  all  his  reasonings 
could  not  satisfy  Mr.  Henrj'^'s  conscience  of  the  lawful- 
ness of  being  re-ordained  and  conforming.  The  Bishop, 
for  some  years  after,  when  he  came  that  way,  towards 
London,  either  called  on  Mr.  Henry,  at  his  house,  or 
sent  for  him  to  Whitchurch,  and  still  with  all  outward 
expressions  of  friendship." 

Mr.  Henry  afterwards  availed  himself  of  the  favour 
this  excellent  prelate  had  expressed  for  him,  to  obtain 
his  interference  on  behalf  of  some  of  the  oppressed 
Nonconformist  ministers  in  his  diocese,  who  were  sufier- 
ing  many  hardships,  and  were  threatened  with  impri- 
sonments on  account  of  actions  raised  against  them  in 
the  time  of  his  predecessor  in  the  bishopric.  He  him- 
self continued  to  labour  as  opportunity  ofiered. 


THE  EKV.  PHILIP  HENUyT. 


219 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  RYE-HOUSE  PLOT. 

Ik  the  year  1683,  new  plots  and  suspicions  roused  ^he 
ingry  passions  and  jealousies  of  the  restoration-court, 
;he  consequences  of  which  were  soon  felt  by  the  inno- 
;ent  sufferers  from  its  previous  harsh  and  jealous  enact- 
nents.  Philip  Henry  had  been  labouring  with  his 
vonted  zeal  and  charity  during  a  brief  period  in  which 
he  rigour  of  penal  enactments  had  been  somewhat  re- 
axed.  His  son  remarks,  when  writing  about  this  period : — 
The  trouble  which  he  was  in,  about  the  meeting  at 

eston,  obliged  him  for  a  while  to  keep  his  sabbaths  at 
lome  somewhat  private  ;  but  in  the  year  1682,  he  took 
.Teater  liberty,  and  many  flocked  to  him  on  Lord's 
lays,  through  the  kind  connivance  of  the  neighbouring 
nagistrates  ;  but  in  the  year  1683,  when  the  meetings 
vere  generally  suppressed  throughout  the  kingdom,  he 
v&s  again  necessitated  to  contract  his  sails,  and  confine 
lis  labours  more  to  his  own  family,  and  his  friends 
hat  visited  him.  He  continued  his  attendance  at 
•Vhitewell  Chapel  as  usual ;  and,  when  he  was  abridged 
if  liis  liberty,  he  often  blessed  God  for  his  quietness. 
)nce,  when  one  of  the  curates  preached  a  bitter  sermon 
gainst  Dissenters,  on  a  Lord's-day  morning,  some  won- 
ered  that  Mr.  Henry  would  go  again  in  the  afternoon, 
OT  the  second  part. — But,  saith  he,  if  he  do  not  know 


220 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


his  duty,  I  know  mine ;  and,  I  bless  God,  I  can  find 
honey  in  a  carcass. 

"In  this  time  of  treading  down,  and  of  perplex- 
ity, he  stirred  little  abroad,  being  forced,  as  he  used 
to  express  it,  to  throw  the  plough  under  the  hedge; 
but  he  preached  constantly  at  home  without  distur- 
bance." 

The  Popish  plots,  and  the  proceedings  consequent  on 
the  shameless  venality  of  Titus  Gates,  had  suflBced  for  a 
time  to  divert  the  attention  of  the  government  from  the 
persecution  of  the  poor  Nonconformists.  But  another 
plot,  no  less  famous, — and  generally  known  as  the  Rye- 
House  Plot,  from  the  name  of  an  old  mansion  near 
Newmarket,  at  which  it  was  affirmed  the  conspirators 
had  agreed  to  meet,  in  order  to  waylay  and  assassinate 
the  King  on  his  return  from  Newmarket  races, — di- 
verted the  attention  of  the  court  from  the  Roman 
Catholics,  and  again  led  to  the  increasing  severity  Matthew 
Henry  alludes  to,  against  the  Nonconformists.  It  was 
a  vague  and  nearly  groundless  suspicion  which  the  court 
party  took  advantage  of,  in  order  to  rid  themselves  of 
the  friends  of  liberty.  The  court  had  abundant  cause 
for  fear,  where,  by  so  many  wrongs,  it  had  furnished 
the  nation  with  so  much  reason  for  rebellion ;  but  no 
satisfactory  evidence  was  produced  to  give  any  legal 
countenance  to  the  shameful  prostitution  of  justice  by 
which  Lord  William  Russell  and  Algernon  Sidney  were 
sacrificed  to  the  enmity  of  the  court. 

Mr.  Fox  remarks,  in  the  introduction  to  his  History 
of  James  II.,  "  Of  this  plot  it  may  be  said,  much  more 
truly  than  the  Popish,  that  there  was  in  it  some  truth 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


221 


nixed  with  much  falsehood  ;  and  though  many  circum- 
jtances  in  Kealing's  (one  of  the  informers)  account  are 
aearly  as  absurd  and  ridiculous  as  those  in  Oatfts's,  it 
seems  probable  that  there  was  among  some  of  those  ac- 
cused, a  notion  of  assassinating  the  King  ;  but  whether 
this  notion  was  ever  ripened  into  what  may  be  called  a 
design,  and  much  more  whether  it  was  ever  evinced  by 
such  an  overt-act  as  the  law  requires  for  conviction,  is 
!very  doubtful.  In  regard  to  the  conspirators  of  higher 
tank,  from  whom  all  suspicion  of  participation  has  been 
ilong  since  done  away,  there  is  unquestionably  reason  to 
believe  that  they  had  often  met  and  consulted,  as  well 
for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  the  means  the}^  actually 
possessed,  as  for  that  of  devising  others  for  delivering 
'their  country  from  the  dreadful  servitude  into  which  it 
had  fallen  ;  and  thus  far  their  conduct  appears  clearly  to 
have  been  laudable."  The  virtuous  simplicity  of  Lord 
iWilliam  Russell,  and  the  courageous  fidelity  of  his 
noble  wife,  have  given  to  both  an  enduring  place  on  the 
page  of  English  history,  and  helped  to  add  to  the  in- 
famy with  wliich  the  government  of  the  Restoration  is 
branded. 

Lady  Russell,  with  firm  and  noble  devotion,  attended 
:  her  husband  duiing  his  trial,  to  take  notes,  and  assist 
I  him  in  his  defence.  The  bitterness  of  their  parting 
I  is  described  by  contemporary  writers  as  a  most  touch- 
ling  scene  of  grief  and  true  womanly  affection  ;  and 
the  lasting  sorrow  which  her  subsequent  con-espondence 
■discloses,  exhibits  one  of  the  most  lovely  examples  of 

i enduring  love. 
The  poet  Rogers  thus  refers  to  Lady  Russell,  in  "  The 


S22 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


Pleasures  of  Memory,"  alluding  to  the  Traitor's  GccU 
of  the  Tower  of  London: — 

"On  through  that  gate  misnamed,  through  which  before 
(Vent  Sidney,  Russell,  Raleigh,  Cranmer,  More, 
On  into  twilight,  within  walls  of  stone, 
Tfien  to  the  place  of  trial ;  and  alone, 
Alone  before  his  judges  in  array- 
Stands  for  his  life :  there  on  that  awful  day, 
Counsel  of  friends,— all  human  help  denied, — 
All  but  from  her  who  sits  the  pen  to  guide, 
Like  that  sweet  saint  who  sate  by  Russell's  side 
Under  the  judgment-seat." 

The  most  prominent  charges  against  the  suj^posed 
conspirators  were  that  they  had  conspired  to  take  the 
King's  life,  to  raise  a  rebellion  in  the  country,  and  to 
establish  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  the  King's  illegitimate 
son,  upon  the  throne.  It  may  suffice  to  say  of  this  plot 
what  has  been  already  remarked  by  the  eminent  states- 
man and  historian  already  quoted :  "  It  is  impossible  not 
to  assent  to  the  opinion  of  those  who  have  ever  stigma- 
tized the  condemnation  and  execution  of  Russell  as  a 
most  flagrant  violation  of  law  and  justice."  The  violent 
and  illegal  means,  however,  adopted  on  this  occasion  to 
extinguish  the  patriotic  party  in  England,  accomplished 
the  object  that  the  court  had  in  view,  and  allowed  Charles 
to  indulge  in  licentiousness,  and  oppression  during  the 
very  brief  period  of  his  reign  that  followed  Russell's 
execution.  But  the  day  of  retribution  was  at  hand. 
Scarcely  five  years  after  James  II.  appealed  in  his  ex- 
tremity to  the  aged  Earl  of  Bedford,  the  father  of  the 
Patriot  Russell,  beseeching  him  to  use  his  influence  with 
the  people  on  his  behalf.  The  Earl  had  exerted  himsel 
in  vain  to  save  the  life  of  his  son,  offering  at  last  enor- 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


223 


mous  bribes  to  tempt  tlie  notorious  cupidity  of  the  court 
when  all  other  influence  failed,  and  now  when  the  King, 
whose  word  might  have  saved  his  son,  during  his  brother's 
reign,  besought  the  EarFs  interference,  he  replied,  "  I  am 
an  old  man,  and  incapable  of  aiding  you,  but  I  had  a 
son  once, — had  he  lived,  his  influence  would  have  proved 
effectual." 

It  is  in  reference  to  this  period  that  Matthew  Henry 
remarks  of  his  father  :  "  He  often  comforted  himself 
with  this : — When  we  cannot  do  what  we  would,  if  we 
,  do  what  we  can  God  will  accept  us ;  when  we  cannot 
keep  open  shop,  we  must  drive  a  secret  trade.    And  he 
would  say, — There  is  a  mean,  if  we  could  hit  it,  be- 
tween fool-hardiness  and  faint-heartedness.    "While  he 
had  some  opportunity  of  being  useful  at  home,  he 
was  afraid  lest  he  should  prejudice  that  by  venturing 
abroad.    One  of  his  friends,  in  London,  earnestly  solicit- 
ing him  to  make  a  visit  thither  in  this  time  of  restraint 
in  the  countrj- ,  he  thus  wrote  to  him  : — I  should  be  glad 
once  more  to  kiss  my  native  soil,  though  it  were  but  "v^ith 
,  a  kiss  of  valediction  ;  but  my  indisposedness  to  travel, 
:  and  the  small  prospect  there  is  of  doing  good  to  counter- 
j  vail  the  pains,  are  my  prevailing  arguments  against  it. 
I  am  here,  it  is  true,  buried  alive,  bift  I  am  quiet  in  my 
grave,  and  have  no  mind  to  be  a  walking  ghost.  We 
,  rejoice,  and  deske  to  be  thankful,  that  God  hath  given 
,  us  a  home,  and  continued  it  to  us,  when  so  many,  better 
,  than  we,  have  not  where  to  lay  their  head,  having  no 
certain  dwellmg-place.    (It  was  at  the  time  of  the  dis- 
persion of  the  French  Protestants.)    Why  are  they 
exiles,  and  not  we  ?    They  strangers  in  a  strange  land, 


224 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


and  not  we  ?  We  must  not  say,  '  "We  will  die  in  our 
nests;'  lest  God  say,  Nay:  nor,  We  will  'multiply  our 
days  as  that  bird,'  the  phoenix ;  lest  God  say,  '  This  night 
thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee.'  Our  times,  and  all 
our  ways,  are  at  his  disposal,  absolutely  and  universally ; 
and  it  is  very  well  they  are  so." 


CHAPTER  XXm. 

THE  DUKE  OF  MONMOUTH'S  INSURRECTION. 

On  Friday,  the  6th  of  February,  1685,  Charles  II.  ex- 
pired under  circumstances  altogether  worthy  of  the  close 
of  a  life  which  had  been  characterized  by  such  shameless 
profligacy  and  cruelty.  He  was  attended  on  his  death- 
bed by  various  of  the  bishops,  and  paiiicularly  by  BishOp 
Ken,  who  strove  in  vain  to  guide  the  thoughts  of  the 
dying  King  to  repentance,  for  the  many  sins  of  his  shame- 
ful career,  and  to  some  serious  preparation  for  the  great 
change  that  awaited  him  ;  but  it  was  altogether  vain.  He 
who  had  restored  Episcopacy  in  defiance  of  his^ost 
solemn  engagements,  and  had  persecuted  Papists  for 
treason,  and  Protestant  Nonconformists  for  self-sacrific- 
ing obedience  to  the  dictates  of  conscience,  very  fitly 
ended  his  career  by  receiving  the  mass  from  the  hands 
of  Huddleston,  a  Popish  priest,  who  was  secretly  intro- 
duced into  his  chamber  during  the  night.  The  following 
picture  drawn  by  the  graphic  pen  of  Evelyn,  conveys  a 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


226 


rightful  idea  oi  the  fearful  profanity  and  licentiousness 
)fthat  godless  court  by  whom  such  cruelty  and  oppression 
vas  exercised  against  the  Christian  confessors  of  England, 
n  the  latter  end  of  the  seventeenth  century.  ''I  can  never 
"orget,"  says  Evelyn, — wi-itingonthe  Sabbath  immediately 
;ucceeding  the  death  of  Chaiies  II., — "the  inexpres- 
;ible  luxury  andprofaneness,  gaming  and  all  dissoluteness, 
ind  as  it  were  total  forgetfulness  of  God,  (it  being  Sun- 
lay  evening,)  which  this  day  se'nnight  I  was  witness  of, 
he  King  sitting  and  toying  with  his  concubines,  Ports- 
nouth,  Cleveland,  Mazarine,  &c.,  a  French  boy  singing 
ove-songs  in  that  glorious  gallery,  whilst  about  twenty 
)f  the  great  couitiers  and  other  dissolute  persons  were 
it  basset  round  a  large  table,  a  bank  of  at  least  £2,000 
n  gold  before  them,  upon  which  tvm  gentlemen  who 
vere  with  me  made  reflections  in  astonishment.  Six  days 
ifter  all  was  in  the  dust !" 

The  object  at  which  the  patriots  Russell  and  Sidney, 
md  those  who  united  with  them  in  seeking  to  free 
England  from  her  intolerable  yoke  of  bondage,  chiefly 
iiad  aimed  at,  was  to  set  aside  the  Duke  of  York  from 
succeeding  to  his  brother's  throne,  in  consequence  of  his 
ivowed  adherence  to  Popery,  During  the  excitement 
ithat  prevailed  in  England  at  the  time  of  Titus  Oates's 
Popish  plot,  in  1678-9,  the  Duke  of  York  found  it  ad- 
tvisable  to  retire  to  the  continent,  and  he  resided  ac- 
icordingly  at  Brussels,  with  his  wife  and  his  younger 
daughter,  the  Lady  Anne,  who  afterwards  succeeded  to 
the  throne.  During  his  absence  the  famous  bill  for 
liis  exclusion  from  the  tlirone  was  twice  read  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  ordered  to  be  proceeded  with 
P 


226 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


by  large  majorities  ;  and,  had  not  the  King  hastily  pro- 
rogued the  parliament,  it  would  undoubtedly  have  passed 
into  law.  From  this  date  may  be  traced  the  com- 
mencement of  the  open  rivalry  between  the  Duke  of 
York  and  Charles's  natural  son,  the  Duke  of  Monmouth, 
on  whom  the  popular  suffrages  seemed  very  generally 
to  fall,  as  the  most  hopeful  successor  to  Charles.  On 
the  death  of  the  latter,  however,  the  court  party  had 
already  effected  their  purpose,  in  removing  out  of  the 
way,  by  the  scaffold  and  the  dungeon,  all  those  whp 
were  best  suited  to  guide  the  nation  in  the  choice  of 
a  successor,  and  no  opposition  was  made  to  his  succes- 
sion to  the  throne.  In  his  first  address  to  the  Privy 
Council,  he  said  : —  "  I  have  been  reported  to  be  a  man 
for  arbitrary  power ;  but  that  is  not  the  only  false 
story  that  has  been  made  of  me ;  and  I  shall  make  it 
my  endeavour  to  preserve  this  government,  both  in 
church  and  state,  as  it  is  now  established  by  law."  In 
this  he  made  professions  which  he  lost  not  a  moment  in 
giving  the  lie  to.  The  first  proclamation  he  issued  or- 
dered the  payment  of  the  customs  and  excise  duties  as 
usual ; — an  act  altogether  analagous  to  the  well-known 
enforcement  of  ship-m.oney  by  his  father,  which  prepared 
the  way  for  his  dethronement  and  death. 

So  far  was  he  from  disguising  his  adherence  to  Popery, 
that  he  went  openly,  and  with  great  state  and  ceremony, 
to  the  celebration  of  mass,  in  defiance  of  the  law ;  and 
even  sent  an  accredited  agent  to  Rome,  to  make  his 
submission  to  the  Pope,  and  pave  the  way  for  th^  restor- 
ation of  papal  supremacy  in  England.  Meanwhile,  his 
devotion  to  his  religion  did  not  prevent  a  profligacy  fully 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


227 


?  open  and  shameless  as  that  of  his  brother,  and  a 
enality  so  mean  and  degrading  that  he  literally  became 
le  hired  tool  and  pensioner  of  the  French  King  Louis. 

The  Nonconformists  had  anticipated  the  most  rigorous 
feverities  against  them  from  the  accession  of  a  Popish 
ing,  but  in  this  they  were  agreei»bly  deceived.  The  de- 
re  of  the  King  to  favour  the  Roman  Catholics  led  to 
n  immediate  relaxation  of  all  the  penal  laws  against 
lonconformity,  of  which  they  reaped  the  full  advantage. 
i  was  not  till  a  determined  spirit  of  oppositioD  began 

manifest  itself  against  the  government,  that  they  once 
lore  experienced  the  rigorous  severities  which  the  St. 
iartholomew  Act  had  introduced.  This  resistance  was 
rst  shown  in  the  descent  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth 
'Q  England,  nearly  simultaneous  with  that  of  the  Earl 
f  Argj-le  on  Scotland,  in  1G85.  The  issue  was  alto- 
ether  disastrous.  Argyle  was  seized  and  executed  at 
Idinburgh  ;  and  Monmouth,  after  suEFering  a  total  de- 
iat  in  the  decisive  battle  of  Sedgemoor,  was  earned 
•risoner  to  London,  and  perished  on  the  scaffold, 
i  This  insurrection  was  made  the  excuse  for  the  re- 
lewal  of  the  most  intolerant  severities  both  in  Scotland 
ind  England.  Colonel  Kirk  established  military  law  in 
he  disaffected  counties,  and  the  infamous  J udge  Jeffries 
followed  him  to  add  the  insulting  mocker}^  of  the  forms 
ff  law  to  their  savage  acts  of  vengeance.  Between  the 
two  the  south-western  counties  of  England  were  made 
the  scene  of  the  most  horrible  attrocities,  hundreds  of 
■nen  and  women  were  butchered  with  the  sword  and  the 
■ixe.  Their  dismembered  limbs  were  strewed  in  every 
Jiirection,  and  the  most  effective  means  taken  to  render 


228 


LIFE  Ain)  TIMES  OP 


the  government  altogether  odious  and  infiamous  to  the 
nation. 

Philip  Henry  speedily  became  involved  in  the  suffer- 
ings inflicted  on  thousands  of  innocent  and  unoffending 
people.  His  son  has  furnished  us  with  the  following 
narrative  of  his  father's  trials  at  this  period  : — "  At  the 
time  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth's  descent,  and  the  in- 
surrection in  the  west,  in  the  year  1685,  Mr.  Henry,  as 
well  as  many  others,  (pursuant  to  a  general  order  of  the 
Lord-Lieutenant,  for  securing  all  suspected  pei-sons,  and 
particularly  all  Nonconformist  ministers,)  was  taken  up 
by  a  warrant  from  the  deputy-lieutenants,  and  sent  un- 
der a  guard  to  Chester  Castle,  where  he  was  about  three 
weeks  a  close  prisoner.  He  was  lodged  vdth.  some  gen- 
tlemen and  ministers  that  were  fetched  thither  out  of 
Lancashire,  who  were  all  strangers  to  him,  but  he  had 
great  comfort  in  the  acquaintance  and  society  of  many 
of  them, 

"  Thence  he  addressed  to  Mrs.  Henry  the  following 
letter  :— 

July  8,  1635. 

"  Dear  Heart, 

"  I  continue  veiy  well  at  present, — thanks  be  to 
God  ! — and  feel  nothing  yet  of  the  inconveniences  of  a 
prison,  "We  are  better  accommodated,  as  I  acquainted 
you  in  my  last,  than  we  could  have  expected,  though 
we  must  pay  for  it.  Just  now,  six  ministers,  Noncon- 
formists, are  brought  in  hither  fr-om  Lancashire,  more 
than  before  ;  so  far  are  we  from  enlargement.  But  our 
times  are  in  God's  hand,  who  hath  sent  us  hither,  I 
am  confident,  for  good,  though  how,  or  which  way,  or 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


229 


wherein,  I  know  not  ;  but  '  He  is  faithful  who  hath 
'Tomised.'    My  chamber-fellows  and  I  differ  something 
our  apprehensions  of  things  past,  which  will  not  be 
ped  ;  but  for  the  '  unseen  things'  that  are  to  come, 
T  are  eternal,  we  are  all  one.    Our  afternoons,  till 
(\  are  filled  with  visitants,  who  love  us,  and  wish  us 
1.  and  are  kind  to  us  ;  but  we  cannot  do  with  them 
^.t  we  would.    I  have  not  yet  opened  the  little  bottle 
rought  with  me,  not  wanting  it,  and  being  more 
.  id  of  what  might  heat  me,  in  regard  we  have  no 
Irink  but  strong,  (unless  very  seldom,)  which  may  turn 
feverish  distempers,  wanting  exercise,    I  have  not 
;den  on  the  ground  since  Saturday,  which,  using  my- 
■  to  in  the  mornings,  I  thought  the  want  of  might  be 
;  udicial ;  but  hitherto  it  is  not.    I  have  not  tasted 
;er  yet,  with  bread,  since  I  came  fi-om  home.  The 
aimer  we  had,  beans  and  bacon,  salmon,  &c.    I  am 
■areful  what  I  eat ;  not  fish  and  flesh.    Mrs.  "Wenlock 
to  see  me  yesterday,  and  brought  me  a  bottle  of  wine. 
i.estow  all  of  that  kind  in  common  with  my  compan- 
ons,  strangers  here.    Let  me  hear  from  you  how  you  do, 
nd  the  children,  &c.,  as  oft  as  you  can.    Love  to 
•latthew.    Our  guards  change  every  hour,  which  makes 
t  so  very  hard  to  come  to  us.   I  would  gladly  see  him, but 
\  lien,  or  how,  I  know  not.   I  think  there  is  little  danger 
f  any  harm  to  him  here,  if  there  be  none  at  home  at  his 
ctum.    Love  to  Sarah  and  Eleanor,  and  to  all  the  rest. 
)o  what  you  can  to  get  to  heaven  yourselves,  and  to  help 
ne  another  thither.    Prepare  for  further  sufferings,  to 
ch  it  may  be  these  things  are  but  the  preamble;  but  all 
ell  that  ends  everlastingly  well.    Thanks  for  all  your 


230 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


love  and  faithfulness  to  me,  and  patience  with  me  ;  the 
Lord  will  reward  it.  One  of  my  fellow-prisoners  the  last 
night  received  a  letter  from  his  wife,  subscribed,  '  So  I 
rest,  dear  husband,  in  all  duty  and  obedience,  your  obe- 
dient wife.'  Such  is  Lancashire  kindness  ;  but  deeds 
exceed  words. 

"  I  am,  in  short,  most  entirely  and  most  affectionately 
thine.  «  p  ^  >, 

"  He  often  spake  of  this  imprisonment,  not  as  a  matter 
of  complaint,  but  of  thanksgiving,  and  blessed  God  he 
was  in  nothing  uneasy  all  the  while.  In  a  sermon  to 
his  family  the  day  after  he  came  home,  he  affectionately 
recounted  the  mercies  of  that  providence,  as  for  instance  : 
That  his  imprisonment  was  for  no  cause  ;  it  is  guilt  that 
makes  a  prison.  That  it  was  his  security  in  a  dangerous 
time.  That  he  had  good  company  in  his  sufferings,  who 
prayed  together,  and  read  the  Scriptures  together,  and 
discoursed  to  their  mutual  edification.  That  he  had 
health  there  ;  not  '  sick,  and  in  prison  that  he  was 
visited  and  prayed  for  by  his  friends.  That  he  was 
very  cheerful  and  easy  in  his  spirit,  many  a  time  asleep 
and  quiet  when  his  adversaries  were  disturbedand  unquiet. 
That  his  enlargement  was  speedy  and  unsought  for,  and 
that  it  gave  occasion  to  the  magistrates  who  committed 
him,  to  give  it  under  their  hands  that  they  had  nothing 
in  particular  to  lay  to  his  charge  ;  and.  especially  that  it 
was  without  a  snare,  which  was  the  thing  he  feared  more 
than  anything  else. 

"  It  was  a  surprise  to  some  that  visited  him  in  his 
imprisonment,  and  were  big  with  expectations  of  the 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


231 


Duke  of  Monmouth's  success,  to  hear  him  say,  I  would 
not  have  you  to  flatter  yourselves  with  such  hopes,  for 
God  will  not  do  his  work  for  us  in  these  nations  by  that 
man  ;  but  our  delivei-ance  and  salvation  will  arise  some 
other  waj^ 

"  It  must  not  be  forgotten  how  ready  he  was,  nay,  how 
studious  and  industrious,  to  serve  and  oblige  such  as 
had  been  any  way  instruments  of  trouble  to  him,  as  far 
as  it  lay  in  his  power,  and  he  had  any  opportunity  to  do 
it ;  so  well  had  he  learned  that  gi-eat  lesson  of  forgiving 
and  loving  enemies :  of  this  it  were  easy  to  give  in- 
stances. 

**  When  a  gentleman,  who  had  sometimes  been  an  in- 
strument of  trouble  to  him,  had  occasion  to  make  use  of 
his  help  to  give  him  some  light  into  a  cause  he  had  to 
be  tried,  Mr.  Henry  was  very  ready  to  serve  him  in  it ; 
and  though  he  might  have  declined  it,  and  it  was  some- 
what against  his  own  interest  too,  yet  he  appeared  a 
witness  for  liim,  which  so  won  upon  the  gentleman,  that 
he  was  afterwards  more  friendly  to  him. 

"  Some  have  wondered  to  see  how  courteously  and 

■  friendly  he  would  speak  to  such  as  had  been  any  way 
injurious  to  him,  when  he  met  with  them,  being  as 
industrious  to  discover  his  forgiving  of  wrongs,  as  some 
are  to  discover  their  resentments  of  them. 

>  "  It  was  said  of  Archbishop  Cranmer,  that  the  way  to 
make  him  one's  friend,  was  to  do  liim  an  unkindness  ; 
and  I  am  sure  it  might  be  said  of  Mr.  Henry,  that  doing 
him  an  unkindness  would  not  make  him  one's  enemy. 
This  reminds  me,"  adds  Matthew  Henrj',    of  an  ex- 

.  emplarj'  passage  concerning  his  worthy  friend  ]SIr.  Ed- 


232 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


ward  Lawrence.  Once  going,  with  some  of  his  sons,  by 
the  house  of  a  gentleman  that  had  been  injurious  to 
him,  he  gave  a  cliarge  to  his  sons  to  this  purpose, — That 
they  should  never  think  or  speak  amiss  of  that  gentle- 
man for  the  sake  of  anything  he  had  done  against  him ; 
but,  whenever  they  went  by  his  house,  should  lift  up 
their  hearts  in  prayer  to  God  for  him,  and  his  family." 


CHAPTER  XXrV. 

KING  JAMES'S  INDULGENCE. 


Notwithstanding  the  cruelties  alluded  to,  as  follow- 
ing on  the  invasion  of  Monmouth  and  Argyle,  and  the 
sufferings  it  brought  on  the  Nonconformists,  the  desire 
of  relaxing  the  penal  statutes  against  Romish  Dis- 
senters from  the  Episcopal  Church,  soon  led  to  greater 
liberty  for  the  Puritan  Nonconformists  also.  Soon  after 
Philip  Henry's  release  from  Chester  Castle,  he  found 
himself  again  free  to  avail  himself  of  occasional  oppor- 
tunities for  preaching,  though  still  in  such  a  state  of  im- 
certainty,  and  dependence  on  the  caprice  of  a  despotic 
court,  as  left  him  in  daily  anticipation  of  renewed 
severities.  The  state  of  suspense  in  which  he  was 
kept,  is  shown  in  the  following  extract  from  a  letter  ad- 
dressed by  him,  in  1687,  to  Henry  Ashurst,  Esq.,  of  Lon- 
don, "  a  person  of  quality,"  as  his  son  styles  him,  with 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


233 


Avhom  Philip  Henry  began  a  correspondence  in  the  pre- 
mous  year,  which  lasted  till  his  death.  He  was  frequently 
made  the  almoner  of  this  new  friend,  who  appears  to 
have  delighted  in  distributing  of  his  wealth  to  relieve  the 
lecessities  of  his  poor  Christian  brethren.  From  this 
lietter  he  seems  to  have  been  desirous  of  placing  his 
son  under  the  guidance  and  tuition  of  Philip  Henry. 
'  As  to  what  you  desire,"  the  latter  wTites  in  reply 
0  him,  "  concerning  your  son,  I  am  heartily  willing 
.0  my  poor  power,  to  serve  you  in  his  education 
lere  for  a  while  ;  but  I  am  afraid,  by  reason  of  your  un- 
ieserved  overvaluing  thoughts  of  me,  (wherein  you 
vould  abate  if  you  knew  me  better,)  lest  you  promise 
/ourself  that,  from  it,  which  will  not  be.  Should  the 
iberty  talked  of  prove  an  open  door,  concerning  which 
ve  are  yet  in  the  dark  here,  and,  I  perceive,  so  are  they 
ilso  that  are  nearer  you,  I  think,  if  others  enter,  I  shall 
)e  loath  to  stay  behind  ;  it  will  be  a  hinderance  to  that 
ittendance  on  his  teaching  which  should  be,  especially  if 
le  be  not  yet  past  the  school  measures.  And  another 
hing  is,  that  he  will  be  alone,  w^liich  will  make  the 
vheels  go  heavy.  I  have  refused  several  of  late,  and  at 
/resent  do  not  know"  of  any,  undisposed  of,  that  will  be 
neet  for  him.  It  were  desirable  it  should  be  one  who 
.3  rather  a  step  before  than  behind  him.  These  are  the 
:liings  at  present  that  offer  themselves  to  my  thoughts 
concerning  it,  and  from  mine,  they  come  to  you,  if  my  son 
lave  not  already  hinted  them  to  you.  I  suppose  it  will 
lot  be  long  ere  he  will  be  looking  homewards  ;  and  if  so, 
mth  his  help  it  will  be  the  better  done.  Please  to  weigh 
it  yet  fui-ther  with  yourself,  and  the  Lord  direct  and  de- 


834 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


termine  your  will  by  his  will,  and  that  shall  be  my  will 
in  the  matter. 

"Sir,  I  most  heartily  thank  both  you  and  your  good 
lady,  (to  whom  I  give  my  humble  service,)  for  your  very 
great  kindness  and  respect  to  my  son  [Matthew  Henry, 
then  in  London.]  He  intimates  the  deep  sense  he  hath 
of  it,  and  I  join  with  him  in  thankful  acknowledg- 
ment." 

"  It  was  in  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1685,  when  the 
stream  ran  so  very  strong  against  the  Dissentei-s,  that  Mr. 
Henry  being  in  discourse  with  a  very  great  man  of  the 
Church  of  England,  [probably  Dr.  Lloyd,  Bishop  of  St 
Asaph,]  mentioned  King  Charles's  indulgence  in  1672,  as 
that  which  gave  rise  to  his  stated  preaching  in  a  separate 
assembly,  and  added,  if  the  present  King  James  should  in 
like  manner  give  me  leave,  I  would  do  the  same  again.  To 
which  that  great  man  replied,  'Never  expect  any  such  thing 
from  him  ;  for  take  my  word  for  it,  he  hates  you  Non- 
conformists in  his  heart.'  '  Truly,'  said  Mr.  Henry,  *  I 
believe  it,  and  I  tliink  he  doth  not  love  you  of  the  Church 
of  England  either.'  It  was  then  little  thought  that  the 
same  right  reverend  person  who  said  so  to  him,  should 
have  the  honour,  as  he  had  soon  after,  to  be  one  of  the 
seven  bishops  committed  to  the  Tower  by  King  James ; 
as  it  was  also  far  from  any  one's  expectation  that  the 
same  King  James  should  so  quickly  give  liberty  to  the 
Nonconformists.  But  we  live  in  a  world  wherein  we  are 
to  think  nothing  strange,  nor  be  surprised  at  any  turn  of 
the  wheel  of  nature,  as  it  is  called. 

"  The  measures  then  taken  by  King  James's  court 
and  council  were  soon  laid  open,  not  only  to  view,  but 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


235 


to  contempt,  being  in  a  short  time,  by  the  overruling 
providence  of  God,  broken  and  defeated.  However,  the 
indulgence  granted  to  Dissenters  in  April,  1687,  must 
needs  have  been  a  reviving  to  those  who,  for  so  many 
years,  had  lain  buried  in  silence  and  restraint  ;  nor  can 
any  who  will  allow  themselves  the  liberty  of  supposing  the 
case  their  own,  wonder  that  they  should  rejoice  in  it, 
though  the  design  of  it  being  manifest,  they  could  not 
choose  but  rejoice  with  trembling.  Mr.  Henry's  senti- 
ments concerning  it  were, — Whatever  men's  ends  are,  I 
believe  God's  end  in  it  is  to  do  us  good. 

"  There  were  many  that  said,  surely  the  Dissenters 
will  not  embrace  the  liberty  which  is  intended  only  for 
a  snare  to  them.  i\Ir,  Henry  read  and  considered  the 
letter  of  advice  to  the  Dissenters  at  that  juncture,  but 
concluded, — Duty  is  our's,  and  events  are  God's.  He 
remembered  the  experience  he  had  had  of  the  like  in 
King  Charles's  time,  and  that  did  good,  and  no  hurt. 
And  why  might  not  this  do  so  too  ?  All  power  is  for 
edification,  not  for  destruction.  Did  Jeremiah  sit  still 
in  the  court  of  the  prison  because  he  had  his  discharge 
from  the  King  of  Babylon  1  Nay,  did  not  Paul,  when  he 
was  pei-secuted  by  his  countrjTnen  for  preaching  the 
gospel,  appeal  to  Csesar,  and  find  more  kindness  at  Rome 
than  he  did  at  Jerusalem  1  In  short,  the  principle  of  his 
conversation  in  the  world  being  not  fleshly  wisdom,  or 
policy,  but  the  grace  of  God,  and  particularly  the  grace 
of  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity^  he  was  willing  to  make 
\  the  best  of  that  which  was,  and  to  hope  the  best  of  the 
.  design  and  issue  of  it.  Doubtless  it  was  intended  to  in- 
troduce Popery  ;  but  it  is  certain  that  nothing  could  arm 

I 


236 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


people  against  Popeiy  more  effectually  than  the  plain  and 
powerful  preaching  of  the  gospel ;  and  thus  they  who 
granted  that  liberty  were  outshot  in  their  own  bow,  as  ma- 
nifestly appeared  in  the  event  and  issue.  As  they  did 
good  service  to  the  Protestant  religion  among  scholars, 
who  wrote  so  many  learned  books  against  Popery  at 
that  time,  for  which  we  return  them  our  best  thinks ; 
80  they  did  no  less  service  among  the  common  people, 
who  are  the  strength  and  hody  of  the  nation,  that 
preached  so  many  good  sermons  to  arm  their  hearers 
against  that  strong  delusion,  which  Mr.  Henry,  as  well 
as  the  Nonconformists  generally,  took  all  occasions  to  do. 
How  often  would  he  commend  his  hearers,  as  Dr.  Hol- 
land, divinity  professor  in  Oxford,  was  wont  to  do,  to  the 
love  of  God,  and  the  hatred  of  Popery. 

"Besides  his  preaching  professedly  to  discover  the  errors 
and  corruptions  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  (which  he  would 
have  taken  occasion  to  do  more  fully,  had  he  seen  those 
he  preached  to  in  any  immediate  danger  of  the  infection,) 
there  could  not  be  a  more  effectual  antidote  against 
Popery,  than  the  instructing  and  confirming  of  people  in 
the  truth,  as  it  is  in  Jesus ;  and  advancing  the  know- 
ledge of,  and  a  value  and  veneration  for,  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures ;  to  which,  how  much  Mr,  Henry  in  his  place  did 
contribute,  all  that  knew  him  will  bear  record.  He  used 
to  observe,  that  the  fall  of  Babylon  followed  upon  the 
free  and  open  preaching  of  the  everlasting  gospel.  He 
apprehended  this  liberty  likely  to  be  of  very  short  con- 
tinuance, and  to  end  in  trouble ;  and,  because  he  could 
not  see  how  his  not  using  it  would  help  to  prevent  the 
trouble,  whereas  his  vigorous  improvement  of  it  would 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


237 


lelp  to  prepare  for  the  trouble,  he  set  himself  with  all 
iiligence  to  make  the  best  use  he  could  of  this  gleftm 
poth  at  home  and  abroad,  on  sabbath  days,  and  weekdays." 
,  It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Mr.  Henry  had  the  hap- 
piness of  recognizing  his  son  as  an  ordained  minister  of 
i:he  gospel.  When  Mr,  Doolittle's  academy  at  Islington 
.vas  dispersed  by  the  increasing  severity  and  intolerance 
)f  the  government,  Matthew  retm-ned  home  to  Broad 
Oak,  and  his  next  visit  to  London  was  as  a  student  of 
aw.  In  pursuing  his  l'.:^al  studies  he  greatly  added  to 
lis  stores  of  knowledge,  and  he  formed  many  friendships 
it  Gray's  Inn  to  which  he  ever  after  referred  with  plea- 
'iure,  but  his  heart  never  was  in  the  study  of  law,  and  he 
jladly  availed  himself  of  the  relaxation  of  the  penalties 
igainst  dissent,  to  procure  his  ordination  to  the  ministry. 
Chis  occasion  gave  rise  to  the  following  letter  £i-om  his 
ather : 

May  14, 1687. 

"  Son  Matthew, 

"  I  rejoice  in  what  you  heard,  and  saw, 
md  felt,  of  God  on  Monday  last,  and  hope  it  hath  left 
jpon  you  a  truly  indelible  character,  and  such  impres- 
;ions  as  no  time,  nor  anything  else,  shall  be  able  to  wear 
out.  Remember;  assisted  by  thy  strength,  0  God,  I 
A'ill!  As  to  the  manner  and  circumstances  of  your 
i-etum,  we  cannot  order  them  here,  but  must  leave  it 
i:o  yourself  to  do  as  you  shall  see  cause,  beseecliing 
•:he  Lord,  in  everything,  to  make  your  way  plain  before 
jjrou ;  but,  as  to  the  thing  itself,  we  rejoice  in  hopes  it 
will  not  be  long  now  ere  we  shall  see  you  liere,  and,  I 
must  not  say,  be  filled  with  your  company,  for  this  is  not 

i 


238 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


the  world  that  we  must  be  together  in.  Your  dear 
mother  hath  no  great  joy  in  the  thoughts  of  your  closing 
with  them  at  Chester  upon  the  terras  proposed  ;  her  rea- 
sons are  weighty,  and,  in  other  things,  have  many  times 
swayed  with  me  against  my  own,  and  it  hath  done  wel]. 
What  they  are  in  this  matter,  you  shall  hear  immedi- 
ately from  herself.  As  to  your  Northampton  affair  we 
are  no  little  concerned  about  it,  making  mention  of  it  in 
every  prayer  to  our  heavenly  Father,  who,  we  have 
learned,  besides  a  common  providence,  hath  a  special 
hand  in  such  proposals.  And  we  say,  if  you,  of  all  the 
other,  should  miss,  it  would  be  a  grief  of  mind. 

"  The  clergy  in  Cheshire  and  Shropshire  are  hammer- 
ing an  address  of  thanks,  but  divers  of  them  will  not 
strike.    They  begin  to  feel  now  for  their  oaths'  sake 

"  Our  love  and  blessing  is  all  here  is  room  for." 

Mr.  Matthew  Henry  having  shortly  after  the  pre- 
ceding letter  was  wTitten,  settled  at  Chester,  the  follow- 
ing was  addressed  to  him  by  his  father,  on  another,  and 
interesting  subject : — 

July,  1687. 

"Son  Matthew  ; 

"I  am  very  much  concerned  that  two 
such  great  affairs  are,  at  this  time,  met  together  upon 
your  hand, — that  of  the  next  sabbath,  and  that  of  the 
week  after.  You  know  which  of  the  two  should  fill  you 
mpst,  and  I  hope  it  will  accordingly  ;  and,  if  it  do,  you 
may  the  more  comfortably  expect  a  blessing  upon  the 
other  ;  for,  ever  since  I  knew  anything  in  those  matters, 
I  have  found  it  true,  that,  when  I  have  been  most  care- 
ful in  doing  God's  work,  God  hath  been  most  faithful  in 


THE  REV,  PHILIP  HENRY. 


239 


ioing  mine.  I  have  not  sealed,  but  snbscribedj  a  draught 
>f  articles  with  Mr.  Hardware.*  "We  were  together  yes- 
erday  at  each  place  ;  and,  upon  view,  found  everytliing, 
lot  worse,  but  rather  better,  than  represented.  As  to  a 
iime  and  place  of  sealing,  I  would  meet  half-way  on 
Monday,  but  Wednesday  being  the  first  day  appointed  at 
lanmer,  I  must  needs  attend  that.  If  you  would  not 
hink  it  too  long  to  defer  till  the  week  after,  that  is,  to 
he  19th  instant,  I  should  hope,  by  that  time,  (your 
iiext  sabbath  work,  and  your  Warrington  journey,  and 
ur  engagements  here,  being  all  over,)  there  would  be 
Liuch  more  of  clearness  and  freeness,  without  hurry, 
s  to  each  cii-cumstance  ;  but  I  must  not  urge  it,  not 
insist  upon  it,  lest  '  the  heart  be  made  sick  ;'t  there- 
3re  do  as  you  see  cause,  only  in  everything  take  God 
long  with  you,  and  do  all  '  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
esus.' 

"  Give  my  kind  respects  to  Miss  Hardware,  your  good 
4end,  whom  I  hope  to  call  by  another  name  shortly, 
'he  Lord  bless  you  both,  and  first  fit  you  for,  and  then 
ive  you  to,  each  other,  in  much  mercy  !  Amen." 

Matthew  had  no  such  difficulties  to  contend  \s'ith  as 
receded  his  father's  marriage.  He  was  married  on  the 
_9th  of  the  same  month  of  July,  and  his  domestic  joy 
fas  a  delightful  repetition  of  the  happy  scenes  he  had 
ntnessed  and  shared  in  at  Broad  Oak. 

"  To  resume  the  narrative.  The  great  subject  of  de- 
ate  at  this  time  in  the  nation,  was,  concerning  the  re- 

■  Mias  Hardwire,  of  Moldsworth,  was  Mr.  Matthew  Henry's  first  wife, 
t  See  Prov.  xiii  12. 


240  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 

peal  of  penal  laws  and  tests.  Mr.  Henry's  thoughts 
were,  as  to  the  penal  laws,  that,  if  those  against  the  Dis- 
senters were  all  repealed,  he  would  rejoice  in  it,  and  be 
very  thankful  hoth  to  God  and  man  ;  for  he  would 
sometimes  say,  without  reflection  upon  any,  he  could  not 
but  look  upon  them  as  a  national  sin  ;  and,  as  for  those 
against  the  Papists,  if  our  lawgivers  see  cause  to  repeal 
them  in  a  regular  way  :  I  will  endeavour,  says  he,  to 
make  the  best  of  it,  and  to  say, — The  will  of  the  Lord  be 
done  ! 

"In  the  month  of  August,  1687,  King  James  made 
a  royal  progress  to  Chester  in  great  state,  hoping  thereby 
to  win  popularity,  and  to  recover  the  good  opinion  of  the 
people.  Mr.  Henry  joined  with  several  others,  in  and 
about  Whitchurch,  Nantwich,  and  Wem,  in  an  address 
to  him,  which  was  presented  when  he  lay  at  Whitchurch, 
The  purport  of  it  was,  not  to  sacrifice  their  lives  and  for- 
tunes to  him  and  to  his  interest,  but  only  to  return  him 
thanks  for  the  liberty  they  had,  with  a  promise  to  de- 
mean themselves  quietly  in  the  use  of  it. 

"Some  time  after,  commissioners  were  sent  abroad 
into  the  country,  to  inquire  after  the  trouble  the  Dissen- 
ters had  sustained  by  the  penal  laws  ;  and  how  the 
money  that  was  levied  upon  them  was  disposed  of,  little 
of  it  being  found  paid  into  the  Exchequer  ;  they  sent  to 
Mr.  Henry,  to  have  an  account  from  him  of  his  sufferings ; 
he  returned  answer,  by  letter,  that  he  had  indeed  been 
fined  some  years  before,  for  a  conventicle,  and  distrained 
upon,  and  his  goods  carried  away  ;  which  all  the  country 
knew,  and  to  which  he  referred  himself  But,  being  re- 
quired to  give  a  ©articular  account  of  it  upon  oath, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY 


241 


though  he  said  he  could  be  glad  to  see  such  instruments 
'  of  trouble  legally  removedj  yet  he  declined  giving  any 
further  information  concerning  it :  having,  as  he  wrote 
I  to  the  commissioners,  long  since,  from  his  heart,  forgiven 
l!all  the  agents,  instruments,  and  occasions  of  it  ;  and 
having  purposed  never  to  say  anything  more  of  it. 
j  "  It  was  on  Tuesday,  June  14,  1681,  that  he  was  dis- 
jturbed  at  Weston,  in  Shropshire,  when  he  was  preaching 
on  Psalm  Ixvi.  18  ;  and  on  Tuesday,  June  14,  1687,  that 
day  six  years,  he  preached  there  again  without  distur- 
'bance,  finishing  what  he  was  then  prevented  from  de- 
livering, concerning  prayer,  going  on  to  the  succeeding 
words  of  the  same  text — '  But,  verily,  God  hath  heard 
'me,  blessed  be  God,'  concerning  the  duty  of  thanksgiving. 
This  seventh  year  of  their  silence  and  restraint,  proved, 
through  God's  wondei-ful  good  providence,  the  year  of 
release." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

JAMES   SECOND'S  TOLERATION. 

j  On  the  27th  of  April,  1688,  King  James  renewed  his 
projects  for  the  gradual  introduction  of  Popery,  by  pub- 
lishing a  second  declaration  of  indulgence  to  Dissenters, 
and  commanded  it  to  be  read  by  the  clergy,  in  all  the 
churchesj  immediately  after  divine  service.    This  was 


242 


LIPE  AND  TIMES  OF 


vehemently  opposed  by  men  of  all  parties  on  many 
grounds  ;  and  chiefly  because  it  implied  the  possession, 
by  the  crown,  of  a  dispensing  power,  whereby  the  laws 
could  he  at  any  time  rescinded,  and  the  King  render  him- 
self altogether  independent  of  parliament.  It  was  for 
their  refusal  to  obey  this  illegal  stretch  of  authority,  that 
the  seven  bishops  were  sent  to  the  Tower  on  the  8th  of 
June  following,  and  were  during  the  same  month  brought 
to  trial  before  the  Court  of  King's  Bench,  on  the  charge 
of  publishing  "  a  false,  fictitious,  malicious,  pernicious, 
and  seditious  libel.  The  court,  however,  was  defeated. 
The  jury  returned  a  verdict  of  not  guilty  in  defiance  of 
every  attempt  to  coerce  them,  and  the  whole  kingdom 
resounded  with  acclamations  at  the  result,  as  a  great 
national  deliverance. 

The  infatuated  monarch  had  no  wise  and  disinterested 
counsellor  to  show  him  how  madly  he  was  rushing  on  to 
inevitable  collision  with  the  nation  over  whom  he  had 
been  permitted  to  assume  supreme  rule,  in  direct  oppo- 
sition, as  may  justly  be  affirmed,  to  the  will  of  the  ma- 
jority. The  peculiar  form,  however,  that  his  quarrel 
with  the  nation  now  assumed,  is  worthy  of  note,  from 
the  influence  it  exercised  on  the  position  of  the  Noncon- 
formists under  the  new  regime.  Hume  thus  concisely 
sums  up  the  narrative  of  infatuated  obstinacy,  by  means 
of  wliich  James  II.  precipitated  his  own  fate:  "He 
struck  out  two  of  the  judges,  Powell  and  Hollo  way,  who 
had  appeared  to  favour  the  bishops  ;  he  issued  orders  to 
prosecute  all  those  clergymen  who  had  not  read  his  de- 
claration, that  is,  the  whole  Church  of  England,  two 
hundred  excepted  j  he  sent  a  mandate  to  the  new  Fel* 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


243 


lows  whom  lie  had  obtruded  on  Magdalen  College,  to 
elect  for  president,  in  the  room  of  Parker,  lately  deceased, 
one  Gifford,  a  Doctor  of  the  Sorbonnc,  and  titular  Bishop 
of  Madaura  :  and  he  is  even  said  to  have  nominated  the 
same  person  to  the  see  of  Oxford."  By  such  means  as 
these,  it  may  be  readily  conceived  that  the  whole  body 

•  of  the  Church  of  England,  including  the  powerful  uni- 
versity corporations,  and  other  institutions  indirectly  as- 
sociated with  it,  were  an-ayed  in  violent  opposition  to  the 
crov\Ti,  whose  divine"  right  to  absolute  government,  so 

=  many  of  their  leading  members  had  recently  maintained, 
when  its  powers  appeared  to  be  entirely  devoted  to  their 
interests. 

The  only  line  of  policy  adopted  by  the  infatuated 
King  which  showed  the  slightest  sign  of  conciliatory 
eflFoi-ts,  or  even  of  politic  tact,  was  his  concession  of 
toleration  to  thje  great  body  of  Dissenters,  who  had  suf- 
fered so  severely  under  the  despotic  enforcement  of  con- 
formity since  the  Restoration.  Some  of  the  smaller 
.sects,  and  especially  the  Quakers,  thankfully  availed 
themselves  of  this  unexpected  display  of  royal  favour. 
But  the  great  majority  of  conscientious  Nonconformists 
I  regarded  this  unwonted  partiality  of  their  old  persecutor 
with  prudent  jealousy,  and  saw  in  it  abundant  reason 
to  suspect  that  the  Popish  King  was  only  scheming  to 
make  use"  of  the  divisions  and  jealousies  among  Pro- 
testants in  order  the  more  effectually  to  accomplish 
the  triumph  of  Popery.  Nevertheless  the  favours  that 
continued  to  be  dispensed  to  the  lately  despised  and 
persecuted  Nonconformists  were  altogether  unwonted 
and  surprising. 


244 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


In  one  of  Philip  Henry's  letters  to  his  friend,  Heni7 
Ashurst,  Esq.,  of  London,  he  thus  describes  the  nature 
of  his  reception  by  the  King,  during  his  royal  progress, 
in  answer  to  his  friend's  inquiries.  "  As  to  the  truth  of 
the  matter  whereof  you  desire  an  account,  it  was  this ; 
what  reports  are  concerning  it  I  know  not.  When  I 
had  read  the  address,  the  words  which  the  King  spoke 
were  to  this  purpose. — Gentlemen,  I  perceive  you  have 
been  yourselves  sufferers  for  your  consciences,  and,  there- 
fore, I  cannot  but  look  upon  you  as  men  of  conscience, 
and  take  it  for  granted,  you  will  be  ready  to  do  what 
is  fit  to  be  done  for  the  ease  both  of  yourselves  and 
others  in  that  case,  when  there  is  a  parliament.  For 
my  part  I  shall  be  ready  to  do  what  lies  in  me,  and 
I  hope,  so  will  you.  You  desire  me  to  continue  your 
liberty,  and  I  promise  you  I  will  as  long  as  I  live, 
and  could  be  well  contented,  it  might  be  as  secure  to 
you  by  law,  as  your  Magna  Charta  is. 

"  Q.  What  persuasion  are  you  of  ?  Are  you  for  the 
congregational  way  1 

"  A.  No,  Sir,  we  are  not  for  the  congregational  way. 

"  Q.  What  then  are  you  for  ? 

"-4.  We  are  for  a  moderate  presbytery. 

"  Q.  Are  you  all  so  hereabouts  ? 

*^ A.  There  are  few  Dissenters,  if  any,  hereabouts, 
that  differ  from  us  in  that  matter. 

"  This  was  all  that  was  spoken,  as  far  as  I  can  remem- 
ber ;  after  which  his  Majesty  gave  each  of  us  (in  all 
eight,  whereof  two  were  ministers,)  his  hand  to  kiss,  and 
60'  went  his  way." 

It  was  one  thing,  however,  with  these  conscientious 


HE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


24£ 


Nonconformists  to  seek  to  obtain  such  liberty  of  con- 
science as  the  government  could  be  induced  to  concede 
to  them,  so  that  they  might  lead  quiet  and  peaceable 
lives  ;  but  an  altogether  different  matter  to  be  assumed  as 
the  favourites  and  the  tools  of  a  Popish  ruler.  The  C(jii- 
sistency  with  which  they  maintained  their  stand  against 
the  latter,  and  the  firmness  with  which  they  resisted 
every  attempt  to  win  their  services,  even  by  the  promise 
of  receiving  in  return  their  own  just  rights,  reflects  the 
highest  honour  on  these  noble  confessors.  Such  wati 
their  zeal  in  the  cause  of  what  they  believed  to  be  Pro- 
testant and  scriptural  truth,  that  they  heartily  co-ope- 
rated whenever  opportunity  offered,  with  the  high- 
church  party,  from  whom  they  had  suffered  so  many 
wrongs  ;  while  they  even  rejected  the  offer  of  honours 
and  privileges  which  they  might  have  consistently 
enough  received,  and  by  which  they  might  have  found 
abundant  opportunity  for  retaliating  on  their  persecutors, 
had  they  been  actuated  by  such  a  spirit  as  was  in  their 
opponents.  Of  this  the  following  incident  in  the  life  of 
Philip  Henry  is  a  remarkable  example  : — 

"In  May,  1688,"  says  Matthew  Henry,  in  his  inter- 
esting biographical  narrative,  "  a  new  commission  of  the 
•  peace  came  down  for  the  county  of  Flint,  in  which,  by 
whose  interest  or  procurement  was  not  known,  Mr. 
Henry  was  nominated  a  justice  of  peace  for  that  county. 
It  was  no  small  surprise  to  him  to  receive  a  letter  from 
the  clerk  of  the  peace,  directed  to  Philip  Henry,  Esq., 
acquainting  him  with  it,  and  appointing  him  when  and 
whither  to  come  to  be  sworn.  To  this  he  returned 
answer,  that  he  was  very  sensible  of  his  unworthiness 


246 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


of  the  honour,  and  his  unfitness  for  the  office  which  he 
was  nominated  to,  and,  therefore,  desu-ing  to  be  excused, 
and  he  was  so,  and  did  what  he  could  to  prevent  its  be- 
ing spoken  of  in  the  country.  There  were  some,  who, 
upon  this  occasion,  remembered,  that,  a  few  years  before, 
a  reverend  clergyman  in  Shropshire  told  Mr.  Henry  to 
his  face,  that  he  had  done  more  mischief  in  the  country 
than  any  man  that  ever  came  into  it ;  and  that  he  him- 
self hoped  shortly  to  be  in  the  commission  of  the  peace, 
and  then  he  would  rid  the  country  of  him.  But,  alas, 
he  was  quite  disappointed  !  Thus  honour  is  like  the 
shadow,  which  flies  from  those  that  pursue  it,  and  fol- 
lows those  that  flee  from  it." 

In  the  midst  of  this  strange  contest  between  the  crown 
and  the  church  people,  in  which  such  strange  and  unex- 
pected changes  were  already  apparent,  a  son  and  heir 
to  the  throne  of  James  II.  was  announced  to  have  been 
bora — a  piece  of  intelligence  which  was  generally  re- 
garded at  the  period  with  the  utmost  suspicion  ;  though 
the  notion  of  any  deception  having  been  practised  on  this 
occasion,  has  long  since  been  renounced  as  a  groundless 
prejudice.  This  suspicion,  however,  served  to  stimulate 
the  opponents  of  the  royal  policy  to  renevred  exertion, 
since  the  birth  of  an  heir  to  the  throne  seemed  to  pro- 
mise a  perpetuity  to  the  government,  whose  yoke  was 
every  day  becoming  more  insutFerable. 

Already  the  leaders  of  the  opposition  to  the  crown 
were  in  correspondence  with  the  Prince  pf  Orange,  the 
King's  son-in-law.  Their  importunities,  and  the  impo- 
litic course  of  James  II.,  at  length  induced  him  to  comply 
with  their  solicitations.    The  Prince  of  Orange  sailed  for 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


247 


England  with  a  la:-ge  fleet,  and  transports  carrj'ing  a 
land  force  of  about  14,000  men,  with  which  he  landed  at 
Torhay,  in  Devonshire,  on  the  5th  of  November,  1688, 
the  anniversary  of  another  famous  discomfiture  of  a 
Popish  plot.  The  consequences  that  ensued  are  well 
known.  The  wretched  King  found  himself  utterly  de- 
serted. Not  only  the  nobles,  the  people,  and  the 
army,  were  arrayed  against  him  ;  but  his  immediate  ser- 
vants and  friends,  and  even  his  own  children  deserted 
him.  He  was  weighed  in  the  balance  and  found 
wanting ! 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE   ACT   OF  INDULGENCE. 

The  Revolution  of  1688,  is  an  era  from  which  Eng- 
land da,tes  the  ^final  establishment  of  toleration  and 
liberty.  It  was,  however,  rather  the  establishment  of 
forms  than  realities  ;  nor  has  it  been  without  a  tardy 
and  severe  struggle  that  the  nation  has  succeeded  in 
bringing  one  after  another  of  these  revolution  theorys 
into  practical  eflSciency.  At  the  date  of  the  revolution 
settlement,  the  Nonconformists  found  themselves  in  an 
i  equivocal  position,  consequent  on  the  advances  made  to 
them  by  the  dethroned  King,  and  the  invidious  partiality 
ihe  had  professed  for  them.    They  owed  it  to  their  owd 

1 


248 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  GV 


conscientious  self-denial  that  they  had  not  then  to  snfier 
also  the  retaliation  of  triumphant  opponents. 

The  subject  of  our  memoir,  ho\fever,  escaped  many  of 
the  sufferings  of  this  period  of  change,  by  the  consis- 
tency and  integrity  of  his  course  of  conduct,  though  as 
usual,  with  those  who  honestly  refuse  to  be  the  partizans 
of  any  extreme  party,  he  was  reviled  by  those  who 
agreed  on  no  other  point  than  their  opposition  to  the 
mild  and  consistent  course  of  his  Christian  life. 

"  For  two  years  after  this  liberty  began,  Mr.  Henry 
still  continued  his  attendance,  as  usual,  at  White- 
well  Chapel,  whenever  there  was  preaching ;  and  he 
preached  at  his  own  house  only  when  there  was  no  sup- 
ply there,  and  in  the  evening  of  those  days  when  there 
was.  For  doing  thus  he  was  greatly  clamoured  against 
by  some  of  the  ri^^id  separatists,  and  called  a  dissembler, 
and  one  that  halted  between  two  opinions.  Thus,  as  he 
notes  in  his  diary,  one  side  told  him,  he  was  the  author 
of  all  the  mischief  in  the  country,  in  drawing  people  from 
the  church  ;  and  the  other  side  told  him,  he  was  the  au- 
thor of  all  the  mischief,  in  drawing  people  to  the  church. 
— And  which  of  these,  says  he,  shall  I  seek  to  please  ? 
Lord,  neither,  but  th^^self  alone,  and  my  own  conscience  ; 
and,  while  I  cauvdo  that,  I  have  enough. 

"  In  a  sermon  at  Whitewell  Chapel,  one  Lord's  day  in 
the  afternoon,  where  he  and  his  family,  and  many  of  his 
congregation,  were  attending,  much  was  said,  with  some 
keen  reflections,  to  prove  the  Dissenters  schismatics,  and 
in  a  damnable  state.  When  he  came  immediately  after 
to  preach  at  his  ovrn.  house,  before  he  began  his  sermon, 
he  expressed  himself  to  this  purpose  ; — Perhaps  some  of 


H  THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  249 

'on  may  expect  now  that  I  should  say  something  in 
nswer  to  v/hat  we  have  lieard,  by  which  we  have  been 
0  severely  charged  ;  but  truly  I  have  something  else  to 
.0  ; — and  so,  without  any  further  notice  taken  of  it, 
18  went  on  to  preach  '  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified.' 

"  It  was  not  without  some  fear  and  trembling,  that  Mr. 
lenry  received  the  tidings  of  the  Prince  of  Orange's 
ending,  in  November,  1688,  as  being  somewhat  in  the 
ark  concerning  the  clearness  of  his  call,  and  dreading 
/•hat  might  be  the  consequence  of  it.  He  used  to  say  ; 
-  Give  peace  in  our  time,  0  Lord,' — was  a  prayer  that 
e  would  heartily  set  his  Amen  to.  But,  when  secret 
hings  were  brought  to  light,  and  a  regular  course  was 
iken  to  fill  the  vacant  throne  with  such  a  king,  and 
Lich  a  queen,  none  rejoiced  in  it  more  heartily  than  he 
id.  He  celebrated  the  National  Thanksgiving  for  that 
reat  deliverance,  with  an  excellent  sermon  on  that  text, 
What  shall  we  then  say  to  these  things  ?  If  God  be 
)r  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ? ' 

"  RefeiTing  to  this  change  of  aSairs,  as  it  affected  as- 
Dciaiing  for  Christian  worship,  he  thus  endeavoured  to 
iise  the  minds  of  his  flock  above  the  consideration  of 
lere  second  causes. — Christ  is  a  shield  to  particular  con- 
regations  and  assemblies,  professing  faith  in,  and  obe- 
.  ience  to,  him  ;  especially  walking  worthy  of  their  pro- 
]  ission,  to  protect  and  defend  them  against  the  wrath 
)  nd  violence  of  those  who  hate  them.    Are  not  we  our- 
r  slves  an  instance.    Had  we  been  here  to-day,  if  the 
\  lessed  Jesus  had  not  been  a  shield  to  us  ?    Whose  hand 
ut  his  hath  been  our  covering  ?    It  is  true,  we  have  a 
kfood  law,  and  a  good  king  and  queen,  but  liad  they  been 


250 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


for  us  if  the  Lord  Jesus  had  been  against  us  ?  No,  no  ; 
— he  hath  been  for  us,  and  therefore  they.  '  The  shields 
of  the  earth  belong  unto  God.'  " 

The  nature  of  the  revolution  settlement,  and  the  result 
of  the  jealousies  that  had  immediately  preceded  it,  soon 
became  apparent  in  its  fruits.  Moderate  and  conscien- 
tious Nonconfonnists  hoped  that  one  of  the  fruits  of  the 
change  of  government,  would  have  been  such  a  relaxa- 
tion of  the  oaths  and  restrictions  imposed  on  them  at  the 
restoration,  as  would  have  redeemed  the  church  from  its 
share  in  the  infamy  of  the  Bartholomew  act,  and  ad- 
mitted of  the  return  of  the  good  men  excluded  by  it,  to 
their  former  privileges  and  services  within  its  pale.  The 
following  narrative  shows  how  completely  dissent  was 
forced  upon  them  : 

"  Soon  after  that  happy  settlement,  there  were  over- 
tures made  towards  a  comprehension  of  the  moderate 
Dissenters  with  the  Church  of  England ;  which  Mr.  Henry 
most  earnestly  desired,  and  wished  for,  if  it  could  have 
been  upon  any  terms  less  than  sinning  against  his  con- 
science ;  for  never  was  any  more  averse  to  that  which 
looked  like  a  separation  than  he  was,  if  he  could  possibly 
have  helped  it.  His  prayers  were  constant,  and  his  en- 
deavours, as  he  had  opportunity,  that  there  might  be 
some  healing  methods  found  out  and  agreed  upon. 

"  But  it  was  well  known  what  was  the  voa:  cleri  at  that 
time,  viz. — That,  forasmuch  as  the  oaths,  subscriptions, 
and  ceremonies,  were  imposed  only  to  keep  out  such  men, 
they  would  never  consent  to  their  removal,  for  the  let- 
ting them  in  again.  Nolumus  leges  Anglice  mutari,  was 
a  saying  perverted  to  this  purpose;  and  the  fixed  prin- 


THE  REY.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


251 


3iple  was, — Better  a  schism  without  the  church,  than  a 
faction  within  it,  &c.  This  was  at  that  time  published 
ind  owned,  as  the  sense  of  the  clergy  in  convocation. 
Phis  temper  and  resolve,  so  contrary  to  what  might  have 
been  expected  upon  that  happy  and  glorious  revolution, 
somewhat  altered  his  sentiments  on  that  matter  ;  and 
16  saw  himself  perfectly  driven  from  them.  Despairing, 
therefore,  to  see  any  accommodation,  he  set  himself  the 
nore  vigorously  to  improve  the  present  liberty. 

"  In  June,  1689,  the  Act  of  Indulgence  passed,  which 
lot  only  tolei-ated,  but  allowed,  the  Dissenters'  meetings, 
lud  took  them  under  the  protection  of  the  government. 
"  In  allusion  to  this  event  Philip  Henry  thus  writes : — 
The  condition  of  many  ministers  and  people  among 
lurselves,  and  of  many  in  Franco,  has  been,  in  outw^ard 
ippearance,  a  dead  condition.    The  words  of  the  Act  of 
LTniformity  are,  that  they  shall  be  as  if  naturally  dead: 
out^  blessed  be  God,  there  hath  been  a  resurrection  in 
oome  measure,  a  coming  out  of  the  grave  again,  of  which, 
vhoever  was  the  instrument,  the  Lord  Jesus  himself  hath 
a  the  principal  Agent.    He  is  the  Resm-rection  to  us. 
>\'hen  a  company  of  nonconformists  went  to  court  to 
ongratulate  the  King  and  Queen,  and  to  thank  them  for 
present  liberty,  being  all  clothed  alike  in  long  black 
iks,  such  as  ministers  usually  wear  in  London,  a  scoffer 
; — '  Whither  are  all  these  going ; — to  a  burial  V  'No, 
said  one  of  them,  'to  a  resm-rection.' 
Soon  after,  though  he  never  in  the  least  changed  his 
Igment  as  to  the  lawfulness  of  joining  in  the  Common 
I'rayer,  but  was  still  ready  to  do  it  occasionally ;  yet  the 
iTninisters  that  preached  at  Whitewell  Chapel,  being  often 


252 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


uucertain  in  their  coming,  which  kept  his  meeting  at 
Broad  Oak  at  like  uncertainties,  to  the  frequent  disappoint- 
ment of  many  of  his  hearers  that  came  from  far ;  he  was 
at  last  prevailed  upon  to  preach  regularly  every  Lord's 
day,  which  he  continued  to  do  while  he  lived,  much  to  his 
own  satisfaction,  and  that  of  his  friends.  An  eminent 
minister  in  Lancashire,  who  in  like  manner  altered  his 
practice  about  that  time,  gave  this  for  a  reason; — 'That 
he  had  been  for  twenty-seven  years  striving  to  please  a 
generation  of  men,  who,  after  all,  v/ould  not  be  pleased ; 
and  therefore  he  would  no  longer  endeavoui*  as  he  had 
done.' 

"It  may  be  of  use  to  give  some  account  how  Philip 
Hemy  managed  his  ministerial  work  in  the  latter  part  of 
his  Hfe,  wherein  he  had  as  signal  tokens  of  the  presence 
of  God  with  him  as  ever;  enabling  him  still  to  bring 
forth  fruit  in  old  age,  and  to  renew  his  youth  like  the 
eagles.  Though  what  he  did,  he  still  did  without  pay 
or  recompense  and  would  do  so,  yet  he  was  not  willing  to 
have  any  constant  assistant,  nor  had  he  any ;  so  much 
was  he  in  his  element  when  he  was  about  his  Master's 
work. 

"As  to  his  constant  sabbath  work,  he  was  uniform 
and  abundant  in  it.  He  began  his  morning  family-wor- 
ship at  eight  o'clock,  when  he  read  and  expounded  pretty 
largely,  sung  a  psalm,  and  prayed ;  and  many  strove  to 
come  time  enough  to  join  with  him  in  that  ser^'ice.  He 
began,  in  public,  just  at  nine  o'clock,  winter  and  summer. 
His  meeting-place  was  an  out-building  of  his  own,  near 
adjoining  to  his  house,  fitted  up  very  decently  and  con- 
veniently for  the  purpose.    He  began  with  prayer  1  then 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


253 


he  sung  Psalm  ex.  without  reading  the  line ;  next,  he 
read  and  expounded  a  chapter  in  the  Old  Testament  in 
the  morning,  and  in  the  New  Testament  in  the  afternoon. 
He  looked  upon  the  public  reading  of  the  Scriptures  in 
religious  assemblies  to  be  an  ordinance  of  God,  and  that 
:t  tended  very  much  to  the  edification  of  the  people  by  that 
ordinance,  to  have  what  is  read  expounded  to  them.  The 
3are  reading  of  the  word  he  used  to  compare  to  the  throw- 
ng  of  a  net  into  the  water  ;  but,  the  expounding  of  it  is 
ike  the  spreading  out  of  that  net,  which  makes  it  the 
nore  likely  to  catch  fish  ;  especially  as  he  managed  it, 
kvith  practical,  profitable  observations.  Some  that  have 
^leard  him  read  a  chapter  with  tliis  thought, — How  will 
:ie  make  such  a  chapter  as  this  useful  to  us  ? — have  been 
liurprised  with  such  pertinent,  useful  instructions,  as  they 
lave  owned  to  be  as  much  for  their  edification  as  any 
;ermon.  Commonly,  when  he  had  expounded  a  chapter, 
le  would  desire  them,  when  they  came  home,  to  read  it 
)ver,  and  would  recall  some  of  those  things  that  had  been 
spoken  to  them  out  of  it. 

"In  expounding  the  Old  Testament,  he  industriously 
sought  for  something  in  it  concerning  Christ,  who  is  the 
true  treasure  hid  in  the  field,  the  true  manna  hid  in  the 
lew  of  the  Old  Testament.  Take  one  instance :  The  last 
sabbath  that  ever  he  spent  with  his  children  at  Chester, 
n  the  public  morning  worship,  he  read  and  expounded 
the  last  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Job.  After  he  had  gone 
through  the  chapter,  and  observed  what  he  thought  fit 
out  of  it,  he  expressed  himself  to  this  purpose. — When  I 
have  read  a  chapter  in  the  Old  Testament,  I  used  to 
.inquire  what  there  is  in  it  that  points  at  Christ,  or  is  any 


254 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


way  applicable  to  Christ.  Here  is  in  tliis  chapter  a 
great  deal  of  Job,  but  is  there  nothing  of  Christ  here? 
Yes.  You  have  heard  of  the  patience  of  Job,  and  have 
in  him  seen  the  end  of  the  Lord.  This  in  Job  is  appli- 
cable to  Christ,  that  after  he  had  patiently  gone  through 
his  sufferings,  he  was  appointed  an  intercessor  for  his 
unkind  friends.  Verse  8.  '  Go  to  my  servant  Job,  and 
my  servant  Job  shall  pray  for  you,  for  him  will  I  accept.' 
If  any  one  hath  an  errand  to  God,  let  him  go  to  Jesus 
Christ,  and  put  it  into  his  hand,  for  there  is  no  accep- 
tance to  be  hoped  for  with  God,  but  by  him,  who  is  his 
beloved  Son  ;  not  only  with  whom  he  is  well  pleased, 
but  in  whom,  viz.  with  us  in  him,  he  hath  made  us 
accepted  in  the  beloved. 

"On  another  occasion,  having  gone  through  a  course  of 
lectures  on  the  real,  as  distinguished  from  personal  types, 
of  Christ,  he  concluded  the  sermon  in  which  he  had 
briefly  recapitulated  the  twelve  topics  as  follows, — Thus 
I  have  endeavoured  to  break  these  shells  that  you  may 
come  at  the  kernel.  What  have  we  need  of,  that  is  not 
to  be  had  in  Christ, — the  marrow  in  all  these  bones? 
In  him  we  have  an  ark  against  a  deluge,  a  ram  to  be 
slain  for  us,  a  ladder  to  get  to  heaven  by,  a  lamb  to  take 
away  our  sins,  manna  to  feed  us,  water  out  of  the  rock 
to  refi-esh  us,  a  brazen  serpent  to  heal  us,  purification- 
blood  to  cleanse  us,  a  scape-goat  to  carry  our  sins-  into  a 
land  of  forgetfulness,  a  city  of  refuge  to  fly  to,  a  temple 
to  pray  to,  an  altar  to  sanctify  all  our  gifts.  Lo,  Christ 
is  all  this,  and  infinitely  more,  therefore  we  need  to  look 
for  no  other. 

'*  After  the  exposition  of  the  chapter,  he  sung  a  psalm, 


THB  RBV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


255 


and  commonly  chose  a  psalm  suitable  to  the  chapter  he 
expounded.  He  often  said, — The  more  singing  of  psalm?, 
there  is  in  our  families  and  congregations  on  sabbath  days, 
the  more  like  they  are  to  heaven,  and  the  more  there  is 
in  them  of  the  ever  lasting  sabbath.  He  would  say 
sometimes,  he  loved  to  sing  whole  psalms,  rather  than 
pieces. 

"  After  the  sermon  in  the  morning,  he  sung  the  117th 
psalm,  without  reading  the  line. 

He  intermitted  at  noon  about  an  hour  and  a  half, 
and  on  sacrament  days  not  so  long,  in  which  time  he 
took  some  little  refreshment  in  liis  study,  making  no 
dinner  ;  yet  many  of  his  friends  did  partake  of  his 
carnal,  as  well  as  of  his  spiiituai  things,  as  those  did 
that  followed  Christ,  of  whom  he  was  careful  they  should 
not  feint  by  the  way.  The  morning  sermon  was  repeated, 
by  a  ready  writer,  to  those  that  stayed  in  the  meeting- 
place,  as  many  did  ;  and  when  that  was  done,  he  began 
the  afternoon's  exercise  ;  in  which  he  not  only  read  and 
expounded  a  chapter,  but  catechised  the  children,  and 
expounded  the  catechism  briefly  before  sermon.  Thus 
did  he  go  from  strength  to  strength,  and  from  duty  to  duty, 
on  sabbath  days  ;  running  the  way  of  God's  command- 
ments with  an  enlarged  heart.  And  the  variety  and 
vivacity  of  his  public  services  made  them  exceedingly 
pleasant  to  all  who  joined  with  him,  none  of  whom  ever 
had  cause  to  complain  of  his  being  tedious." 


256 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


CHAPTER  XXVn. 

THE  SERVICES  AT  BROAD  OAK. 

Pkobably  no  one  could  be  found  among  the  long  list 
of  pious  divines  ejected  at  the  restoration  who  carried 
the  forbearance  and  moderation  we  have  already  des- 
cribed to  such  a  length.  Philip  Henry  was  conscientiously 
attached  to  the  principle  of  an  established  church,  as  a 
recognition  of  scriptural  Christianity  and  the  obligations 
of  the  divine  law  by  the  nation,  and  therefore  he  was 
most  tenderly  careful  to  avoid  every  act  that  seemed  cal- 
culated to  undermine  it,  even  when  he  was  suffering 
most  from  the  intolerant  treatment  of  all  who  conscien- 
tiously differed  from  it. 

"As  to  the  administration  of  the  sacrament,"  says  his  son, 
when  narrating  the  incidents  of  his  later  life;  "  those  myster- 
ies of  God,  of  which  ministers  are  the  stewards;  and  especi- 
ally as  to  the  sacrament  of  baptism  ;  he  had  never,  that  I 
know  of,  baptized  any  children  except  his  own,  from  the 
time  he  was  turned  out  in  1662,  till  his  last  liberty  came, 
though  often  desired  to  do  it;  such  was  the  tender  regard  he 
had  to  the  established  church  ;  but  now  he  revived  the 
administration  of  that  ordinance  in  his  congregation.  The 
occasion  was  this  :  One  of  the  parish  ministers,  preach- 
ing at  Whitewell  Chapel, — Mr.  Henry  and  his  family, 
and  many  of  his  friends,  being  present, — was  earnestly 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


267 


cautioning  people  not  to  go  to  conventicles,  and  used 
this  as  an  argument  against  it, — '  That  they  were  bap- 
tized into  the  Church  of  England.'  Mr.  Henry's  catholic 
charity  could  not  well  digest  his  monopolizing  of  the  great 
ordinance  of  baptism,  and  thought  it  time  to  bear  his 
testimony  against  such  narrow  principles,  of  which  he 
ever  expressed  his  dislike.  Accordingly  he  took  the  next 
opportunity  that  offered  itself,  publicly  to  baptize  a  child, 
and  desired  the  congregation,  to  bear  witness, — That  he 
did  not  baptize  that  child  into  the  Church  of  England, 
nor  into  the  Church  of  Scotland,  nor  into  the  Church  of 
the  Dissenters,  nor  into  the  church  at  Broad  Oak,  but 
into  the  visible  catholic  church  of  Jesus  Christ.  After 
this  he  baptized  very  many,  and  always  publicly,  though, 
being  in  the  country,  they  were  commonly  carried  a  good 
way.  The  jpublic  administration  of  baptism,  he  not  only 
judged  most  agreeable  to  the  nature  and  end  of  the  ordi- 
nance, but  found  it  to  be  very  profitable  and  edifying  to 
•  he  congregation;  for  he  always  took  that  occasion,  not  only 
0  explain  the  nature  of  the  ordinance,  but  affectionately 
ind  pathetically  to  excite  people  duly  to  improve  their 
)aptism.  He  usually  received  the  child  immediately  out 
)f  the  hands  of  the  parent  that  presented  it,  and  returned 
t  into  the  same  hands  again,  with  this  or  the  like 
;harge, — Take  this  child,  and  bring  it  up  for  God.  He 
ised  to  say,  that  one  advantage  of  public  baptism  was, 
hat  there  were  many  to  join  in  prayer  for  the  child,  in 
vhich  therefore,  and  in  blessing  God  for  it,  he  was  usually 
-ery  large  and  particular.  After  he  had  baptized  the 
ild,  before  he  gave  it  back  to  the  ]tarent,  he  commonly 
1  t):esc  \vrnl<  ;         wcc'.ve  t'^-  cli:  r'c  r<f.t 


258 


LIFE  A5D  TIMES  OF 


gregation  of  Christ's  church,  having  washed  it  with 
water,  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  in  token  that  hereafter  it  shall  not  be 
ashamed  to  confess  Christ  crucified,  and  manfully  to 
fight  under  his  banner,  against  sin,  the  world,  and  the 
devil  :  and  to  continue  Christ's  faithful  soldier  and  ser- 
vant unto  his  life's  end. 

"  He  baptized  many  adult  persons,  that,  through  the 
error  of  their  parents,  were  not  baptized  in  infancy,  and 
some  of  them  in  public. 

"  The  solemn  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  supper  he  con- 
stantly celebrated  in  his  congregation  once  a  month,  and 
always  to  a  very-  considerable  number  of  communicants. 
He  did  not  usually  observe  public  days  of  preparation  for 
that  ordinance,  other  than  as  they  fell  in  course  in  the 
weekly  lectures,  nor  did  he  ever  appropriate  any  particu- 
lar subject  of  his  preaching  to  sacrament  days,  having  a 
great  felicity  in  adapting  any  profitable  subject  to  such 
an  occasion  ;  and  he  would  say,  what  did  the  primitive 
Christians  do,  when  they  celebrated  the  Lord's  supper 
every  Lord's  day  ?  His  administration  of  this  ordinance 
was  veiy  solemn  and  affecting.  He  had  been  wont  to 
go  about  in  the  congregation  and  to  deliver  the  elements 
with  his  own  hand  ;  but  in  his  latter  time,  he  delivered 
them  only  to  those  near  him,  and  so  they  were  handed 
from  one  to  another,  with  the  assistance  of  one  who  sup- 
phed  the  office  of  a  deacon,  as  having  also  the  custody 
and  disposal  of  the  money  gathered  for  the  use  of  the 
poor;  Mr.  Henry  taking  and  carefully  keeping  a  particular 
account  of  it. 

"  Such  as  desired  to  be  admitted  to  the  Lord's  supper, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


269 


he  first  discoursed  with  concerning  their  spiritual  state, 
and  how  the  case  stood  between  God  and  their  souls  ;  not 
only  to  examine  them,  but  to  instruct  and  teach  them,  and 
to  encourage  them  as.he  saw  occasion;  gently  leading  those 
whom  he  d  iscerned  to  be  serious,  though  weak  and  timorous. 
He  usually  discoursed  with  them  more  than  once,  as  find- 
ing '  precept  upon  precept,  and  line  upon  line '  necessary  ; 
but  he  did  it  with  so  much  mildness,  humility,  and 
tenderness,  and  endeavour  to  make  the  best  of  every- 
body, as  did  gi-eatly  affect  and  win  upon  many.  He 
was  herein  like  our  great  Master,  who  can  have  '  compas- 
sion on  the  ignorant,'  and  doth  not  '  despise  the  day  of 
small  things.' 

"  But  his  admission  of  young  people  out  of  the  rank  of 
catechumens  into  that  of  communicants  had  a  peculiar 
solemnity  in  it.  Such  as  he  catechised  when  they  grew 
up  to  years  of  discretion,  if  he  observed  them  to  be  intel- 
ligent and  serious,  and  to  set  their  faces  heavenwards,  he 
marked  them  out  to  be  admitted  to  the  Lord's  supper, 
and  when  he  had  a  competent  number  of  such,  twelve  or 
fifteen,  perhaps,  or  more,  he  ordered  each  of  them  to  come 
to  him  severally,  and  discoursed  with  them  of  the  things 
belonging  to  their  everlasting  peace,  put  it  to  their  choice 
whom  they  would  serve,  and  endeavoured  to  affect  them 
•  with  those  things  with  which,  by  their  catechisms,  they  had 
been  made  acquainted,  drawing  them  with  '  the  cords  of 
a  man,  and  the  bands  of  love,'  into  the  way  which  is 
called  holy.  For  several  Lord's  days  he  catechised  them 
particularly  in  public,  touching  the  Lord's  supper,  and 
the  duty  of  preparation  for  it,  and  their  baptismal  cove 
uant,  which  in  that  ordinance  they  were  to  take  upou 


260 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


themselves,  and  to  make  their  own  act  and  deed.  Often 
telling  them  upon  such  occasions,  that  they  were  not 
come  under  any  greater  obligation  than  they  were  al- 
ready bound  to  by  their  baptism,  but  only  to  bind  them- 
selves faster  to  it.  Then  he  appointed  a  day,  in  the 
week  before  the  ordinance,  when  in  a  solemn  assembly  he 
prayed  for  them,  and  preached  a  sermon  to  them,  proper 
to  their  age  and  circumstances ;  and  so  the  following 
sabbath  they  were  all  received  together  to  the  Lord's 
supper.  This  he  looked  upon  as  the  right  confirmation, 
or  transition  into  the  state  of  adult  church-membership. 
The  more  solemn  our  covenanting  with  God  is,  the  more 
deep  and  the  more  durable  the  impressions  are  likely  to  be. 
He  hath  recorded  it  in  his  diary,  upon  one  of  these  occasions, 
as  his  heart's  desire  and  prayer  for  those  who  were  thus 
admitted, — That  it  might  be  as  the  day  of  their  espousals 
to  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  that  they  might  each  of  them 
have  a  wedding-garment. 

"  The  discipline  he  observed  in  his  congregation  was 
not  such  as  he  could  have  wished  for,  but  the  best  he 
could  get,  considering  what  a  scattered  flock  he  had. 
However,  I  see  not  but  the  end  was  effectually  attained 
by  the  methods  he  took,  though  there  wanted  the  for- 
mality of  oflicers  and  church-meetings  for  the  purpose. 
If  he  heard  of  any  that  walked  disorderly,  he  sent  for 
them,  and  reproved  them  gently  or  sharply,  as  he  saw 
the  case  required.  If  the  sin  had  scandal  in  it,  he  sus- 
pended them  from  the  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  supper 
till  they  gave  some  tokens  of  their  repentance  and  refor- 
mation. And  where  the  offence  was  public  and  gross, 
his  judgment  was  that  some  public  satisfaction  should  be 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  261 

made  to  the  congregation  before  re-admission.  But 
whatever  offence  did  happen,  or  breaches  of  the  Christian 
peace,  Mr.  Henry's  peculiar  excellence  lay  in  restoring 
with  the  spii'it  of  meekness  ;  which  with  his  great  pru- 
dence and  love,  and  condescension,  so  much  commanded 
the  respect  of  his  people,  and  won  upon  them,  that  there 
was  imiversal  satisfaction  in  all  his  management ;  and 
it  may  be  ti*uly  said  of  him,  as  it  was  of  David,  that 
'  whatsoever  he  did  pleased  all  the  people.' 

"  He  was  very  strict  and  very  serious  in  observing  the 
public  fasts  appointed  by  authorit}',  and  called  them  a  de- 
light. He  had  seldom  any  one  to  assist  him  in  carrying 
on  the  duties  of  those  days,  but  performed  the  service 
himself  alone.  He  began  at  nine  o'clock,  and  never 
stirred  out  of  the  pulpit  till  about  four  in  the  afteraoon, 
spending  all  that  time  in  praying,  expounding,  singing, 
and  preaching,  to  the  admiration  of  all  that  heard  him, 
who  were  generally  more  on  such  days  than  usual.  He 
was  sometimes  observed  to  be  more  warm  and  lively  to- 
wards the  latter  end  of  the  duties  of  a  fast-day  than  at 
the  beginning  ;  as  if  the  spirit  were  most  ^villing  and  en- 
larged when  the  flesh  was  most  weak.  In  all  his  per- 
formances on  public  fast-days,  he  attended  to  tliat  which 
was  the  proper  work  of  the  day  :  '  everything  is  beautiful 
inits  season.'  His  prayers  and  pleadings  with  God  on  those 
days  were  especially  for  national  mercies,  and  the  pardon 
of  national  sins.  How  excellently  did  he  order  the  cause 
before  God,  and  fill  liis  mouth  with  arguments  in  his  large 
and  particular  intercessions  for  the  land,  for  the  King, 
the  government,  the  arm}',  the  navy,  the  church,  the 
French  Protestants,  &c.    He  was  another  Jacob  a 


262 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


WTestler,  an  Israel,  a  prince  with  God.  Before  a  fast-daj 
he  would  be  more  than  ordinarily  inquisitive  concerning 
the  state  of  public  affairs,  that  he  might  know  the  better 
how  to  order  his  prayers  and  preaching ;  for  on  such  a 
day,  he  hath  sometimes  said, — As  good  say  nothing,  as 
nothing  to  the  purpose.  He  made  it  his  business  on  fast- 
days,  to  show  people  their  transgressions,  especially  *  the 
house  of  Jacob  their  sins.'  It  is  most  proper,  said  he,  to 
preach  of  Christ  on  Lord's  days,  to  preach  of  sin  on  fast- 
days,  and  to  preach  duty  on  both.  Hj'pocrisy  in  hearers, 
and  flattery  in  preachers,  as  he  would  sometimes  say,  is 
bad  at  any  time,  but  it  is  especially  abominable  upon  a 
day  of  humiliation. 

"  He  preached  a  great  many  lectures  in  the  country 
about,  some  stated,  some  occasional,  in  supplying  which 
he  was  very  indefatigable.  He  has  sometimes  preached 
a  lecture,  ridden  eight  or  nine  miles,  and  preached  ano- 
ther, and  the  next  day  two  more.  To  quicken  himself 
to  diligence  he  would  often  say.  Our  opportunities  are 
passing  away,  we  must  work  while  it  is  day,  for  the 
night  cometh.  Once,  having  very  wet  and  foul  wea- 
ther to  go  through  to  preach  a  lecture,  he  said,  he 
comforted  himself  with  two  scriptures  ;  one  was  '  Endure 
hardness,  as  a  good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ ; '  the  other, 
because  he  exposed  and  hazarded  his  health,  for  which 
some  blamed  him,  was,  '  It  was  before  the  Lord.'  He 
took  all  occasions  in  his  lectures  abroad,  to  possess 
the  minds  of  people  with  sober  and  moderate  princi- 
ples, and  to  stu'  them  up  to  the  serious  regard  of  those 
things  wherein  we  are  all  agreed. — We  are  not  met 
here  together,  said  he,  once  in  an  exhortation,  with 


THE  BEY.  PHILIP  HEXBT.  263 

idiich  he  often  began  at  his  lecture,  because  we  think 
(jurselves  better  than  others,  but  because  we  desire  to 
be  better  than  we  are. 

'  At  the  monthly  lectures  at  his  own  house,  he  chose 

preach  upon  the  four  last  things,  death  and  judg- 
ment, heaven  and  hell,  in  manv  particulars,  but  com- 
monly a  new  text  for  every  sermon-  When  he  had, 
in  many  sermons,  finished  the  first  of  the  four,  one 
that  used  to  hear  him  sometimes,  inquiring  of  his  pro- 
gress in  his  subjects,  asked  Mm  if  he  had  done  with 
death,  meaning  that  subject  concerning  death  ;  to  which 
he  pleasantly  replied,  No,  I  have  not  done  with  him 
yet-  I  must  have  another  turn  with  him,  and  he  will 
give  me  a  fall ;  but  I  hope  to  have  the  victory  at  last. 
He  would  sometimes  remove  the  lectures  in  the  country 

;n  one  place  to  another,  for  the  benefit  of  those 
:iiiit  could  not  travel.  Once  having  adjourned  a  lec- 
ture to  a  new  place,  he  began  it  with  a  sermon  on 
xT,-ii.  6,  "  These  men  that  have  turned  the  world 
.  .joide  down,  are  come  hither  also  ; '  in  which  he  showed 
how  false  the  charge  is  as  they  meant  it ;  for  religion 
doth  not  disturb  the  peace  of  famiUes,  or  societies,  doth 
not  cause  any  disorder  or  unquietness,  &c.  And  yet, 
that  in  another  sense  there  is  a  great  truth  in  it,  that, 
when  the  gospel  comes  in  power  to  any  soul,  it  turns 
the  world  upside  down  in  that  soul ;  such  is  the  change 
it  makes  there. 

All  tills  lie  did  gratis,  and  without  being  burthen- 

ne  to  any  ;  nay,  he  was  best  pleased,  when,  at  the 
places  where  he  preached,  notliing  was  got  for  his 
entertainment,  but  he  came  home,  thoygh  some  milest 


264 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


fasting  ;  as  in  other  places  it  was  a  trouble  to  him 
to  see  his  friends  careful  about  much  serving,  though 
it  was  out  of  their  respect  to  him. 

"  Lastly.  As  he  was  an  excellent  preacher  himself, 
so  he  was  an  exemplary  hearer  of  the  word,  when 
others  preached,  though  every  way  his  inferiors  ;  so 
reverent,  serious,  and  attentive  was  he  in  hearing,  and 
so  observant  of  what  was  spoken.  I  have  heard  him 
tell,  that  ho  knew  one,  and  I  suppose  it  was  as  Paul 
knew  a  man  in  Christ,  who  could  truly  say,  to  the 
glory  of  God,  that  for  forty  years  he  had  never  slept 
at  a  sermon." 

Such  will  suffice  to  convey  to  the  reader  some  idea  of 
the  temperance,  the  prudence,  the  brotherly-kindness, 
charity,  and  love  with  which  this  devoted  servant  of 
Christ  went  about  his  Master's  business.  Nothing  de- 
lighted him  but  to  spend  and  be  spent  in  the  service  of 
Christ ;  and  yet  so  sweetly  was  his  zeal  tempered  by  the 
lioly  fear  of  a  tender  conscience,  that  he  dreaded,  lest 
while  engaged  in  this  labour  of  love,  he  should  hinder 
even  those  who  preached  the  gospel  from  contention 
and  strife. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE  MARRIAGES  AT  BROAD  OAK. 

The  closing  years  of  Philip  Henry  had  no  other  trials 
to  chequer  the  evening  of  a  life  so  nobly  spent  in 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


266 


his  Master's  cause,  than  such  sorrows  as  ever  mingle  with 
the  human  lot.  We  shall  select  some  of  the  incidents 
of  these  years  from  the  narrative  of  his  son. 

"As  to  the  circumstances  of  his  family,"  says  he,  "in 
these  last  nine  years  of  his  life,  they  were  somewhat  dif- 
ferent from  what  they  had  been  ;  but  the  same  candle  of 
God  which  had  shined  upon  his  tabernacle,  continued 
still  to  do  so.  In  the  years  1687  and  1688,  he  married 
all  his  five  children — the  three  eldest  in  four  months' 
time,  in  the  year  1687  ;  and  the  other  two  in  a  j'ear  and 
a  half  after  ;  so  many  swarms,  as  he  used  to  call  them, 
out  of  his  hive,  and  all  not  only  with  his  full  consent, 
but  to  his  abundant  comfort  and  satisfaction.  He  would 
say  he  thought  it  the  duty  of  parents  to  study  to  oblige  their 
children  in  that  affair.  And  though  never  could  chil- 
dren be  more  easy  and  at  rest  in  a  father's  house  than 
his  were,  yet  he  would  sometimes  say  concerning  them, 
as  Kaomi  to  Ruth,  '  Shall  I  not  seek  rest  for  thee  V 
Two  advices  he  used  to  give,  both  to  his  children  and 
others,  in  their  choice  of  that  relation.  One  was, — 
Keep  within  the  bounds  of  profession,  such  as  one  may 
charitably  hope  is  from  a  good  principle.  The  other 
was, — Look  at  suitableness  in  age,  quality,  education, 
temper,  &c.  He  would  commonly  say  to  his  children, 
with  reference  to  that  choice  :  Please  God,  and  please 
>  ourselves,  and  you  shall  never  displease  me  ;  and  he 
greatly  blamed  those  parents  who  conclude  matches  for 
their  children,  and  do  not  ask  counsel  of  themselves. 

"  He  never  aimed  at  great  things  in  the  world  for  his 
children,  but  sought  for  them,  in  the  first  place,  the  king- 
dom of  God,  and  the  righteousness  thereof    He  used  to 


266 


LITE  AND  TIMES  OP 


mention,  sometimes,  the  saying  of  a  pious  gentlewoman, 
who  had  many  daughters  ; — "  The  care  of  most  people  is 
how  to  get  good  husbands  for  their  daughters  ;  but  my 
care  is  to  fit  my  daughters  to  be  good  wives,  and  then  let 
God  provide  for  them."  In  this,  as  in  other  things,  Mr. 
Henry  steered  by  that  principle, — That  a  man's  life 
consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  that  he 
possesseth.  And  it  pleased  God  so  to  order  it,  that 
he  saw  all  his  children  married,  in  very  agreeable 
and  comfortable  circumstances,  both  for  life  and  godli- 
ness. 

"  Speaking  of  the  aii-angements  of  outward  comforts, 
and  the  eagerness  of  the  affections  towards  them,  he 
would  remark,  that, — God  hath  three  hands,  wherewith 
he  distributes  earthly  things  :  A  hand  of  common  pro- 
vidence ;  with  this  he  feeds  the  ravens,  when  they  cry; 
a  hand  of  special  love  ;  with  this  he  feeds  his  children, 
who  commit  their  way  to  him,  and  put  their  trust  in 
him  ;  a  hand  of  anger  and  wrath  ;  with  this  he  gives 
to  those  who  are  impatient :  they  must  and  will  be  rich  ; 
they  must  and  will  have  this  or  that.  In  gifts  from  men 
we  look  more  at  the  mind  of  the  giver  than  the  value  of 
the  gift.  So  should  we  in  gifts  from  God.  Have  I  his 
love  with  what  I  have  ?  Then  I  am  well  enough.  If 
otherwise  it  is  but  a  sad  portion  ;  as  a  golden  suit  with 
the  plague  in  it. 

"  All  his  four  daughters  were  married  at  White  well 
Chapel,  and  he  preached  a  wedding-sermon  for  each  of 
them  in  his  own  family-circle  after. 

While  he  lived  he  had  much  comfort  in  all  his  chil- 
dren, and  their  yoke-fellows,  and  somewhat  the  more, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY.  267 

that,  by  Divine  Providence,  four  of  the  five  families 
which  branched  out  of  his,  were  settled  in  Chester. 

"  His  youngest  daughter  was  married  April  26, 
1688,  the  same  day  of  the  year,  as  he  observes  in  his 
diary,  and  the  same  day  of  the  week,  and  in  the  same 
place,  that  he  was  married  to  liis  dear  wife,  twenty-eight 
years  before  ;  upon  which,  this  is  his  remark  ; — I  cannot 
desire  for  them,  that  they  should  receive  more  from  God 
than  we  have  received,  in  that  relation  and  condition  ; 
but  I  would  desire,  and  do  desire,  that  they  may  do  more 
for  God  in  it  than  we  have  done. 

"  His  usual  compliment  to  his  new-married  friends, 
was ; — Others  wish  you  all  happiness,  I  wish  you  all 
holiness,  and  then  there  is  no  doubt  but  you  will  have 

♦ all  happiness. 
"When  the  marriage  of  th,e  last  of  his  daughters 
was  about  to  be  contracted,  he  thus  ^^-rites  ; — But  '  is 
Joseph  gone,  and  Simeon  gone,  and  must  Benjamin  go 
also  ? '  We  \nll  not  say,  that  '  all  these  things  are 
against '  us,  but  for  us.  If  we  must  be  thus,  in  this 
merciful  way,  bereaved  of  our  children,  let  us  be  be- 
reaved ;  and  God  turn  it  for  good  to  them,  as  we  know 
he  will,  if  they  love  and  fear  his  name.  When,  some 
time  after  she  was  married,  he  parted  with  her  to  go  to 
the  house  of  her  husband,  he  thus  wTites  ; — We  have 
sent  her  away,  not  as  Laban  said  he  would  have  sent  his 
daughters  away,  \Wth  '  mirth,  and  with  songs,  with  tab- 
ret,  and  with  harp,'  but  with  prayers,  and  tears,  and 
hearty  good  wishes. — And  now,  says  he,  in  his  diary,  we 
are  alone  again,  as  we  were  in  our  beginning.  God  be 
better  to  us  than  twenty  children.    Upon  the  same  oo- 


268 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


casion  he  thus  writes  to  a  dear  relation  ; — "We  are  now 
left  as  we  were,  one  and  one,  and  yet  but  one  one  ;  the 
Lord/  I  trust,  that  has  brought  us  thus  far,  will  enable 
us  to  finish  well ;  and  then  all  will  be  well,  and  not  till 
then. 

"  That  which  he  often  mentioned,  as  the  matter  of  his 
great  comfort  that  it  was  so,  and  his  desire  that  it  might 
continue  so,  was  the  love  and  unity  that  was  among  his 
children  ;  and  that,  as  he  writes,  the  transplanting  of 
them  into  new  relations,  had  not  lessened  that  love,  but 
rather  increased  it  ;  for  this  he  often  gave  thanks  to  the 
God  of  love  ;  noting,  from  Job  i.  4 ; — That  the  children's 
love  to  one  another  is  the  parents'  comfort  and  joy.  In 
his  last  will  and  testament,  this  is  the  prayer  which  he 
puts  up  for  his  children, — That  the  Lord  would  build 
them  up  in  holiness,  and  continue  them  still  in  brotherly 
love,  as  '  a  bundle  of  arrows  which  cannot  be  broken.' 

"  When  his  children  were  removed  from  him,  he  was 
a  daily  intercessor  at  the  throne  of  grace  for  them,  and 
their  families.  Still  the  burnt -offerings  were  offered 
'  according  to  the  number  of  them  all.'  He  used  to  say  ; 
— Surely,  the  children  of  so  many  prayers  will  not  mis- 
carry. 

"The  greatest  af&iction  Philip  Henry  saw  in  his  family, 
was  the  death  of  his  dear  daughter-in-law,  Catharine, 
Mathew's  first  wife,  the  only  daughter  of  Samuel  Hard- 
ware, Esq.  ;  who,  about  a  year  and  a  half  after  she  was 
transplanted  into  his  family,  to  which  she  was  the 
greatest  comfort  and  ornament  imaginable,  died  of  the 
small-pox  in  child-bed,  upon  the  thanksgiving-day  for 
King  William's  coming  in.    She  died  but  a  few  weeks 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


289 


after  Mr.  Henry  had  mamed  the  last  of  his  daughters  ; 
upon  which  marriage  she  had  said, — *  Now  we  have  a 
full  lease,  God  only  knows  which  life  will  drop  fii-st.' 
She  comforted  herself  in  the  extremity  of  her  illness 
with  this  word  ; — '  Well,  when  I  come  to  heaven,  I  shall 
see  that  I  could  not  have  been  without  this  affliction.' 
She  had  been  for  some  time  before  under  some  fears  as 
to  her  spiritual  state,  but  the  clouds  were,  through  grace, 
dispelled,  and  she  finished  her  course  with  joy,  and  a 
cheerful  expectation  of  the  glory  to  be  revealed.  When 
she  lay  ill,  Mr.  Henry,  being  in  fear  not  only  for  her  that 
was  ill,  but  for  the  rest  of  his  children  in  Chester,  who 
had  none  of  them  past  the  pikes*  of  that  perilous  dis- 
temper, wrote  thus  to  his  son,  on  the  evening  of  the 
Lord's  day  : — I  have  just  done  the  public  work  of  this 
day,  wherein,  before  many  scores  of  witnesses,  many  of 
whom,  I  dare  say,  are  no  little  concerned  for  you,  I  have 
absolutely,  freely,  and  unreservedly,  given  you  all  up  to  , 
the  good-will  and  pleasure  of  our  heavenly  Father,  wait- 
ing what  he  will  do  with  us,  for  good  I  am  sure  we  have 
received,  and  shall  we  not  receive  evil  also  ? 

"  When  two  of  his  cliildren  lay  ill,  and  in  perilous 
circumstances,  after  he  had  been  wrestling  with  God  in 
prayer  for  them,  he  wrote  thus  in  his  diary  ; — If  the 
Lord  w^ill  be  pleased  to  grant  me  my  request  this  time 
concerning  my  children,  I  will  not  say  as  the  beggars  at 

•  In  reference  to  this  quaint  phrase  Sir  J.  B.  Williams  adds  the  following 
note:  "Mr.  Paul  Bayne,  in  his  Christian  Letters,  p.  24G,  urges  for  conso- 
lation, that  it  is, — '  promised  we  shall  passe  the  pikes,  and  bring  forth, 
though  with  sorrows.'  In  another  of  his  works  he  says; — 'We  see  that 
who  will  keepe  life  and  power  in  his  course,  endeavouring  a  good  con- 
science in  all  things,  they  must  passe  the  pikes  of  evil  tongues  which  are 
■  shaken  against  them.' " 


270 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


our  door  are  wont  to  do  ; — I'll  never  ask  anything  of  him 
again  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  he  shall  hear  oftener  from 
me  than  ever  ;  and  I  will  love  God  the  better,  and  love 
prayer  the  better,  as  long  as  I  live.  He  used  to  say, — 
Tradesmen  take  it  ill  if  those  that  are  in  their  books  go 
to  another  shop.  While  we  are  so  much  indebted  to  God 
for  past  mercies,  we  are  bound  to  attend  him  for  further 
mercies. 

"  When  the  families  of  his  children  were  in  health  and 
peace,  the  candle  of  God  shining  upon  their  tabernacles, 
he  wrote  thus  to  them  ; — It  was  one  of  Job's  comforts 
in  his  prosperity,  that  his  children  loved  one  another, 
and  feasted  together.  The  same  is  ours  in  you,  which, 
God  continue.  But  you  will  not  be  offended,  if  we  pray 
that  you  may  none  of  you  curse  God  in  your  hearts. 
Remember  the  wheel  is  always  in  motion,  and  the  spoke 
that  is  uppermost  will  be  under,  and  therefore  mix  trem- 
blings always  with  your  joys. 

"  He  had  in  eight  years'  time,  twenty-four  grand-chil- 
dren born  ;  some  by  each  of  his  children  ;  concerning 
whom  he  would  often  bless  God,  that  they  were  all  the 
sealed  ones  of  the  God  of  heaven,  and  enrolled  among 
his  lambs.  On  the  birth  of  his  second  grand-child,  at  a 
troublesome  time  as  to  public  affairs,  he  thus  writes  ; — I 
have  now  seen  my  children's  children  ;  let  me  also  see 
peace  upon  Israel ;  and  then  1  will  say, — '  Lord,  now 
lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart.'  Some  were  much  affected 
with  it,  when  he  baptized  two  of  his  grand-children  toge- 
ther at  Chester,  publicly,  and  preached  on  Genesis  xxxiii. 
5. — 'They  are  the  children  which  God  hath  graciously 
given  thy  servant.' 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


271 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

ADOPTED  SONSL 

We  have  already  seen  the  anxiety  of  one  friend  of 
Philip  Henry  to  place  his  son  under  his  guidance,  and 
no  sooner  did  the  happy  circle  that  had  so  long  gladdened 
his  heart,  leave  it,  to  follow  his  example  in  the  duties 
that  devolve  on  the  married  state,  than  he  received 
numerous  applications  from  those  who  desired  to  see 
their  sons  grow  up  under  the  same  delightful  instruction 
and  example ;  and  follow  in  the  same  course  of  useful- 
ness and  honour  as  his  son  was  already  doing ; — treading 
in  his  father's  steps. 

"  It  was  not  long,"  says  his  son,  "after  his  children  were 
married  from  him,  when  his  house  was  again  filled  with 
the  children  of  several  of  his  friends,  whom  he  was,  by 
much  importunity,  persuaded  to  take  to  table  with  him. 
All  that  knew  him,  thought  it  a  thousand  pities  that  such  a 
master  of  a  household  should  have  but  a  small  family,  and 
should  not  have  many  to  sit  down  under  his  shadow. 
He  was  first  almost  necessitated  to  it,  by  the  death  of  his 
dear  fiiend  and  kinsman,  Mr.  Benyon,  of  Ash,  who  leffc 
his  children  to  his  care=  Some  he  took  gratis,  or  for 
small  consideration ;  and  when,  by  reason  of  the  advances 
of  age,  he  could  not  go  about  so  much  as  he  had  done, 
doing  good,  he  laid  out  himself  to  do  the  more  at  home. 
He  kept  a  teacher  to  attend  their  school-learning ;  and 


m 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


they  had  the  benefit  not  only  of  his  inspection  in  that, 
but  of  what  was  much  more  valuable,  his  family-worship, 
sabbath  instructions,  catechising,  and  daily  converse,  in 
which  his  tongue  was  as  choice  silver,  and  his  lips  fed 
many.  Nothing  but  the  hope  of  doing  some  good  to  the 
rising  generation  could  have  prevailed  with  him  to  take 
this  trouble  upon  him.  He  would  often  say  ; — We  have 
a  busy  house,  but  there  is  a  rest  remaining.  We  must  be 
doing  something  in  the  world  while  we  are  in  it ;  but 
this  fashion  will  not  last  long,  methinks  I  see  it  passing 
away. 

Sometimes  he  had  those  with  him  who  had  gone 
through  their  course  of  university-learning  at  private 
academies,  and  desired  to  spend  some  time  in  his  family, 
before  their  entrance  upon  the  ministry,  that  they  might 
have  the  benefit,  not  only  of  his  public  and  family  instruc- 
tions, but  of  liis  learned  and  pious  converse,  in  which,  as 
he  was  thoroughly  furnished  for  every  good  word  and 
work,  so  he  was  very  free  and  communicative.  The  great 
thing  which  he  used  to  press  upon  those  who  intended 
to  devote  themselves  to  the  ministry,  was  to  study  the 
Scriptures,  and  make  them  familiar.  Bonus  textuariiLS 
est  bonus  theologus,  was  a  maxim  he  often  reminded  them 
of.  For  this  purpose  he  recommended  to  them  the  study 
of  the  Hebrew,  that  they  might  be  able  to  search  the 
Scriptures  in  the  original.  He  also  advised  them  to  use 
an  interleaved  Bible,  wherein  to  insert  such  expositions 
and  observations  as  occur  occasionally  in  sermons  or 
other  books  :  which  he  would  say,  are  more  happy  and 
valuable  sometimes,  than  those  that  are  found  in  the 
professed  commentators.  When  some  young  men  desired 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


273 


the  happiness  of  coming  into  his  family,  he  would  tell 
them ; — You  come  to  me,  as  Naaman  did  to  Elisha, 
expecting  that  I  should  do  this  and  the  other  thing  for  you, 
and,  alas,  I  can  but  say  as  he  did,  Go,  wash  in  Jordan. 
Go,  study  the  Scriptures.  I  profess  to  teach  no  other 
learning  but  scripture-learning." 

Philip  Henry  was  now  in  his  sixty- third  year,  and  he 
felt  the  advances  of  age  compelling  him  to  abate  his 
labours,  though  no  inducement  of  declining  strength 
seemed  to  him  sufficient  reason  for  his  quitting  his  Mas- 
ter's work,  ere  the  day  was  done,  and  the  evening  sun  of 
life  had  set. 

The  following  brief,  but  very  characteristic  note,  was 
addressed  to  his  old  friend,  the  Rev.  Francis  Tallents,  of 
Salop,  a  little  more  than  two  years  before  his  death.  It 
is  subscribed  with  his  "  hearty  love  and  respects,"  and 
contains  a  quaint  riddle,  which  the  reader  will  not  pro- 
bably find  a  very  great  puzzle  to  unriddle. 

"  Dear  Brother, 

"  I  received  yours  by  Mr.  Travers  ;  and,  though 
I  am  so  near  you,  and  though  it  be  so  much  Jn  my  de- 
sires to  see  you  both,  yet,  being  at  present  not  in  a 
capacity  to  do  it,  through  my  great  indisposedness  to 
travel,  further  than  needs  must,  (especially  winter  tra- 
vel, unless  about  my  Master's  immediate  work,)  yet, 
having  so  fair  an  opportunity,  a  line  is  better  than 
nothing,  if  it  be  only  to  wish  you  both  a  holy,  happy, 
new  year,  and  to  present  you  with  a  new-year's  gift, — 
which  is,  a  half-moon,  the  body  of  the  sun,  and  the 

8 


274 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 


fourth  part  of  a  star  ;  which,  when  you  have  put  to- 
gether, you  will  find  me,  as  always, 
"  Dear  sir, 

"  Your  coRdial  brother, 
"  Friend,  Cousin,  Servant, 
"  P.  H." 

January  1,  1693-4. 

In  a  letter  addressed  a  few  months  later  to  his  daugh- 
ter, Mrs.  Savage,  his  allusions  indicate  the  failing  strength 
of  his  long-tried  and  faithful  partner.  "  It  is  long,"  he 
writes,  "  since  we  heard  from  you,  and  it  is  since  you 
heard  from  us  ;  and  we  thought  it  long.  As  yours  to  us 
brings  no  evil  tidings  from  the  wood," — meaning  Wren- 
bury  Wood,  his  daughter's  residence, — "  so  neither  doth 
this  to  you  from  the  Oak." — i.  e.  Broad  Oak. — "  Your 
mother  continues  to  mend,  through  God's  goodness,  and 
bids  me  tell  you  she  is  better, — God  be  praised, — to-day 
than  she  was  yesterday,  and  yesterday  than  the  day  be- 
fore. She  has  come  down  stairs,  and  that  is,  to  her,  like 
launching  into  a  sea  again  ;  for  we  have  at  present  a 
troublesome  house  of  it." 

We  shall  conclude  this  chapter  with  the  following 
affectionate  and  very  characteristic  letter  to  his  old  and 
tried  friend,  the  Rev.  Francis  Tallents.  It  is  dated 
August  13th,  1694,  and  runs  as  follows  : — 

"Dear  Cousin  and  Brother, 

"  I  came  from  home  on  Saturday,  not  without 
some  hopeful  thoughts  of  seeing  you  two,  and  dear  Mr. 
Bryan,  in  his  present  illness,  this  day  but  the  weather 
and  ways  are  grown  suddenly  such,  that  really,  Sir,  I  dare 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRT. 


275 


not  venture,  for  my  strength  will  not  bear  it ;  and  I  dare 
not  tempt  God.  I  am  therefore  hastening  back  to  my 
nest,  where  the  young  ones  are,  at  present,  such  and  so 
many,  that  tlie  poor  hen,  though  she  can  do  as  much  as 
another,  yet,  alone,  cannot  manage  them  without  me. 
If  we  do  any  good,  it  is  well  ;  the  Lord  accept  of  it  in 
Christ ;  but,  I  am  sure,  it  is  not  without  a  gi-eat  deal  of 
care  and  cumber  to  ourselves  in  our  declining  age.  It 
was  a  special  providence  to  gratify  dear  Cos.  Benyon, 
that  at  first  brought  us  into  it  ;  and  I  wait  upon  the 
same  providence,  in  what  way  the  Lord  pleases,  for  there 
are  many  waj's,  to  let  us  fairly  out  again,  that  we  may 
not  break  prison.  I  pray  this,  once  more,  accept  of  this 
true  excuse  ;  and  give  my  dear  love  and  respects  to  good 
Mr,  Bryan,  and  tell  liim,  my  heart  is  with  him,  and  my 
daily  prayers  are  to  God  for  him.  If  there  be  more 
work  to  be  done,  well :  he  shall  recover  to  do  it ;  if  not 
better,  (for  him  better,  whatever  for  others,)  there  is  a 
rest  remaining.    We  serve  a  good  Master. 

"  Dearest  love  to  you  both.  The  Eternal  God  be  your 
refiige  ;  and  underneath  you  be  his  everlasting  arms, 
living,  dj-ing.    Amen  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  CLOSE. 

When  Philip  Henry  reached  his  sixty-third  year  he 
seems  to  have  regarded  it  as  the  close  of  his  appointed 


276 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


pilgrims^e  on  earth  ;  it  was  the  age  at  which  his  father 
died  ;  and  the  near  approach  to  the  threescore  and  ten 
years  of  man's  allotted  span,  gave  him  further  occasion 
for  solemn  reflection  on  the  anticipations  of  the  great 
and  final  change.  Yet  it  will  readily  be  believed  that 
the  good  old  man  looked  forward  to  the  struggle  with  the 
last  enemy,  cheered  by  many  enlivening  hopes,  and  by 
the  faith  that  had  borne  him  through  many  trials  and 
sore  aflB^ictions.  The  cheerfulness  ^vith  which  he  mingled 
the  allusion  to  his  fast  failing  strength,  and  the  good 
hope  through  grace,  with  which  he  gladdened  the  old 
home-circle  at  Broad  Oak,  with  his  own  quaint  fancies 
and  illustrations,  is  very  happily  exemplified  in  the  fol- 
lowing passages  from  a  letter  to  his  old  friend  and  fellow- 
labourer,  the  Rev.  Francis  Tallents  : 

"  I  rejoice  in  the  continuance  of  your  mercies,  that 
your  bow  doth  yet  abide  in  strength,  and  that  my  dear 
sister  also  is  spared  to  you  in  her  usefulness.  The  Lord's 
most  holy  name  be  blessed  and  praised  for  it  !  It  seems 
you  have  your  trials  with  them,  mixtures  for  exercise. 
God  will  have  you  yet  to  shine  brighter  ;  the  dish-clouts 
that  he  makes  use  of  must  help  to  do  it ;  theirs  the 
shame,  yours  the  honour.  Qui  volens  detrahit  fam<E 
tuce  nolens  volens  addit  mercedi  tv/je.  It  is  a  sign  we  gallop 
in  our  way,  Avhen  the  dogs  follow  us  barking.  Slack  not 
your  pace,  though  they  do  so.  There  wiU  as  certainly  be 
a  resurrection  of  names,  as  of  bodies,  and  both  with  ad- 
vantage. Both  as  the  sun  at  noon-day.  I  know  not 
when  I  shall  be  so  happy  as  to  see  you  at  Salop,  though 
I  much  desire  it.  I  am  like  a  traveller's  horse  that 
knows  its  stages,  which,  if  he  exceed,  he  tires  and  is  the 


THE  RET.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


277 


worse  for  it.  Hither,  once  a  quarter,  is  my  mn  pltis 
ultra.  I  have  not  been  at  Chester,  though  I  have  many 
loadstones  there,  above  these  thirteen  months. 

"  Once  a  week,  and  sometimes  twice,  I  keep  my  circuit 
of  two  miles,  or  four  miles,  each  Wednesday,  by  which 
time  I  am  recovered  from  my  sabbath  weariness  ;  and, 
by  the  time  I  am  recovered  from  that,  the  sabbath  work 
returns  again  ;  so  that  I  am  never  not  weary.  But  why 
do  I  tell  you  this  ? — That  I  may  boast  what  a  labourer 
T  am  ?  I  am  a  loiterer,  a  trifler,  a  slug.    Magnis  conaii- 

■s  nihil  ago.  It  is  that  you  may  know  wherein  tohel|> 
ine  with  your  prayers.  Beg  for  me,  that  I  may  be  found 
faithful,  and  that,  wliile  I  preach  to  others,  I  myself  may 
not  be  a  cast-away.  I  have  some  hope,  through  grace, 
that  I  shall  not  ;  but  the  heart  is  deceitful,  the  devil  is 
busj-,  and  God  is  just  and  holy.  Only  this  I  trust  to, — 
■  Christ  hath  died,  yea,  rather,  is  risen  again.' 

"  Dear  love,  and  service  to  you  both.    The  Lord  him- 
self be  your  everlasting  portion.  Amen. 
This,  from 

Your  affectionate  obliged  Brother, 
Friend,  Servant  in  our  dear  Lord, 

P.  H." 

Matthew  Henry  remarks  of  his  father  :  "  In  the  time 
of  his  health,  he  made  death  very  familiar  to  himself,  by 
frequent  and  pleasing  thoughts  and  meditations  of  it ; 
and  endeavoured  to  make  it  so  to  his  friends,  by  speaking 
often  of  it.  His  letters  and  discourses  had  still  some- 
thing or  other  which  spoke  his  constant  expectations  of 
death.    Thus  did  he  learn  to  '  die  daily.'    And  it  is  hard 


278 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


to  say  whether  it  was  more  easy  to  him  to  speak,  or  un- 
easy to  his  friends  to  hear  liim  speak,  of  leaving  the 
world.  This  reminds  me  of  a  passage  I  was  told  by  a 
worthy  Scotch  minister,  Mr.  Patrick  Adair,  that,  visiting 
Mr.  Durham,  of  Glasgow,  in  his  last  sickness,  which  was 
long  and  lingering,  he  said  to  him,  Sir,  I  hope  you  have 
so  set  all  in  order,  that  you  have  nothing  else  to  do  but 
to  die.  '  I  bless  God,'  said  Mr.  Durham,  '  I  have  not 
had  that  to  do  these  many  years.'  Such  is  the  comfort 
of  dying  daily,  when  we  come  to  die  indeed. 

"  Mr.  He&ry,  some  time  before  his  last  illness,  had  a 
severe  attack  of  disease,  which  greatly  excited  the  alarm 
of  his  friends.  His  excellent  wife  was  then  on  a  visit  to 
her  daughter,  Mrs.  Savage,  at  Wrenbury  Wood.  How 
his  own  mind  was  affected  by  the  apparent  approach  of 
the  last  enemy  will  be  seen  by  the  following  letter  : — 

" Dear  Daughter  ; 

"  This  is  to  you  because  of  yours  to  me. 
I  am  glad  to  see  you  so  well  so  quickly,  as  to  be  able  to 
write, — that  your  '  right  hand  hath  net  forgot  its  cun- 
ning ; '  neither  hatli  mine  yet.  I  had  an  ill  day  yester- 
day, and  an  ill  night  after,  but  ease  came  in  the  morning. 
1  have  been  preaching  Christ,  '  the  door '  to  God,  and 
letting  a  little  one  in  to  him  by  the  door  of  baptism,  and 
hope  for  strength  for  the  afternoon  work,  though  in  some 
pain,  yet  less  than  deserved.  Your  mother  hath  some- 
times told  me,  she  could  not  endure  to  see  me  die,  and 
for  that  reason  I  was  glad  she  was  away,  for  I  thought, 
all  night,  there  was  ^but  a  step.'  Here  are  many 
people,  and  they  are  come  to  hear  of  Christ ;  and  willing, 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


279- 


I  am,  they  should,  and  that  they  should  learn  what  I  have 
learaed  of  him.  I  can  cheerfully  say, — '  Lord,  now  lettest 
thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace  !  '  God  increase  your 
strength,  and  especially  your  thankfulness,  and  '  write 
the  name  of  the  child  in  the  book  of  the  living.' 

"My  dear  love  to  my  wife,  and  to  yourself  and  husband, 
and  all  the  rest,  I  am  glad  that  she  is  acceptable  to 
you,  and  am  willing  she  should  be  so.  while  she  and  you 
please. 

"  Mr.  Henry's  constitution  was  delicate,  and  yet  by 
the  blessing  of  God  upon  his  great  temperance  and  mo- 
derate exercise  by  walking  in  the  air,  he  did  for  many 
years  enjoy  a  good  measure  of  health,  which  he  used  to 
call  the  sugar  that  sweetens  all  temporal  mercies  ;  for 
which,  therefore,  we  ought  to  be  very  thankful,  and  of 
which  we  ought  to  be  very  careful. 

"  He  had  sometimes  violent  fits  of  colic,  which  occa-  • 
sioned  him  acute  suffering.  Towards  the  end  of  his  life  he 
was  distressed  sometimes  with  a  pain,  which  his  doctors 
ascribed  to  a  disease  in  the  kidneys.  Once  when  recover- 
ing from  a  violent  fit  of  pain,  he  said  to  one  of  his  friends 
that  asked  him  how  he  did, — he  hoped  by  the  grace  of 
God  he  should  now  be  able  to  give  one  blow  more  to 
the  devil's  kingdom  ;  and  often  professed  he  did  not  . 
desire  to  live  a  day  longer  than  he  might  do  God  some 
service.  He  said  to  another,  when  he  perceived  himself 
recovering.  Well,  I  thought  I  had  been  putting  into  the 
harbour  but  I  find  I  must  to  sea  again. 

He  was  sometimes  suddenly  taken  with  fainting  fits, 
which  when  he  recovered  from,  he  would  say,  Dying  is 
but  a  little  more. 


280 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


"  When  he  was  in  the  sixty-third  of  his  age,  which  is 
commonly  called  the  grand  climacteriCj  and  hath  been  to 
many  the  dying  year,  and  was  so  to  his  father,  he  num- 
bered the  days  of  it,  from  August  24,  1693,  to  August 
24,  1694,  when  he  finished  it.  And  when  he  concluded 
it,  he  thus  wrote  in  his  diary  :  This  day  finisheth  my 
commonly  dying  year,  which  I  have  numbered  the  days 
of,  and  should  now  apply  my  heart,  more  than  ever,  to 
heavenly  wisdom. 

"  He  was  much  pleased  with  that  expression  of  our 
English  liturgy  in  the  office  of  burial,  and  frequently 
used  it :  '  In  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death.' 

"The  infirmities  of  age,  when  they  grew  upon  him,  did 
very  little  abate  his  vigour  and  liveliness  in  preaching  ; 
but  he  seemed  even  to  renew  his  youth  as  the  eagles  : 
as  those  that  are  planted  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  who 
still  bring  forth  fruit  in  old  age,  not  so  much  to  show 
that  they  are  upright,  as  to  show  that  the  Lord  is  up- 
right. But  in  his  latter  years  travelling  was  very  trou- 
blesome t(J  him,  and  he  often  said,  as  Mr.  Dod  used  to  do, 
in  allusion  to  Samson,  that  when  he  thought  to  shake 
himself  as  at  other  times,  he  found  his  hair  was  cut ; 
his  sense  of  this  led  him  to  preach  not  long  before  he 
died  from  the  text,  '  When  thou  wast  young,  thou  gird- 
edst  thyself,'  &c.  Another  sermon  he  preached  for  his 
own  comfort,  and  the  comfort  of  his  aged  friends,  on 
Psalm  Ixxi.  17,  18,  '0  God  thou  hast  taught  me  from 
my  youth,'  &c.  He  observed  there  that  it  is  a  blessed 
thing  to  be  taught  of  God  from  our  youth,  and  those  that 
have  been  so  taught  ought  to  declare  his  wondrous 
works  all  their  days  after.    And  those  that  have  been 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


281 


taught  of  God  from  their  youth,  and  have  all  their 
days  declared  his  wondrous  works,  may  comfortably  ex- 
pect that  when  they  are  old  he  will  not  forsake  them. 
Christ  is  a  master  that  doth  not  use  to  cast  off  his  old 
servants. 

*•  On  another  occasion  he  writes  :  It  was  David's  prayer, 
'  0  God,  thou  hast  taught  me  fi-om  my  youth,  and  hither- 
to have  I  declared  all  thy  wondrous  works.  Now,  also, 
when  I  am  old  and  grey-headed,  0  God,  forsake  me  not.' 
And  we  should  thus  pray.  For  when  God  forsakes,  it  is 
like  as  when  the  soul  forsakes  the  body.  There  is  nothing 
left  but  a  carcass.  It  is  as  when  the  sun  forsakes  the 
earth,  which  causes  night  and  winter.  It  is  as  when  the 
fountain  forsakes  the  cistern,  for  God  alone  is  the  Foun- 
tain. It  is  as  when  the  father  forsakes  the  children. 
It  is  as  when  the  pilot  forsakes  the  ship  ;  then  she  is 
in  great  danger  of  rocks  and  quicksands.  It  is  as  when 
the  physician  forsakes  the  patient,  which  is  not  till  the 
case  is  desperate.  It  is  as  when  the  guide  forsakes  the 
traveller,  and  then  he  is  exposed  to  many  dangers. 

"  For  some  years  before  he  died,  he  used  to  complain 
of  an  habitual  weariness,  contracted,  he  thought,  by  his 
standing  to  preach,  sometimes  very  uneasily,  and  in  in- 
convenient places,  immediately  after  riding.  He  would 
say,  every  minister  was  not  cut  out  for  an  itinerant;  and 
sometimes  the  manifest  attention  and  affection  of  people 
in  hearing  enlarged  him  both  in  length  and  fervency, 
somewhat  more  than  his  strength  could  well  bear.  It 
was  not  many  months  before  he  died,  that  he  wrote  thus 
to  a  dear  relation,  who  inquired  solicitously  concerning 
his  health  :  I  am  always  habitually  weary,  and  expect 


282 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


no  other  till  I  lie  down  in  the  bed  of  spices.  And, 
blessed  be  God,  so  the  grave  is  to  all  the  saints,  since  he 
lay  in  it  who  is  the  rose  of  Sharon,  and  the  lily  of  the 
valleys.  When  some  of  his  friends  persuaded  him  to 
spare  himself  he  would  say,  It  is  time  enough  to  rest 
when  I  am  in  the  grave.  What  were  candles  made  for, 
but  to  burn  1 

"  One  of  the  last  letters  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Savage  is 
thus  expressed,  and  it  manifests  the  enlightened  and 
calm  anticipation  he  indulged  in  as  to  his  final  change  : 

May  28,  1695. 

"Dear  DAuaHTER 

"  You  are  loath  to  part  with  your 
sister,  but  you  know  this  is  not  the  world  we  are  to 
be  together  in  ;  and,  besides,  it  is  to  a  father  and  mother, 
that  are  to  be  but  a  while,  either  for  her  or  you  to  come 
to.  These  short  partings  should  mind  us  of  the  long  one 
which  will  be  shortly,  but  then  the  meeting  again,  to  be 
together  for  ever,  and  with  the  Lord,  is  very  comfortable 
in  the  hope;  and  much  more  will  it  be  so  in  the  fruition. 
Two  that  a  while  ago  were  of  us,  Ann  D.  and  Susan,  are 
gone  before  ;  and  as  sure  as"  they  are  gone,  we  are  also 
going,  in  the  time  and  order  appointed. 

"  Our  dear  love  and  blessing  are  to  all  and  each. 
Farewell. 

"  Your  loving  father, 

"  P.  H." 

"It  does  not  appear  that  he  had  any  particular  pre- 
sages of  his  death  ;  but  there  were  many  instances  of  his 
expectation  of  it,  somewhat  more  than  ordinary,  for 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENFvY. 


283 


some  time  before.  The  last  visit  he  made  to  his  children 
in  Chester,  was  in  July,  1695,  almost  a  year  before  he 
died,  when  he  spent  a  Lord's  day  tliere,  and  preached  on 
the  last  verse  of  the  Epistle  to  Philemon  ; — '  The  grace 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  be  with  your  spirit.' 

"  The  gi-ace  of  Christ  in  the  spirit,  he  remarked,  en- 
lightens and  enlivens  the  spirit,  softens  and  subdues  the 
spirit, purifies  and  preserves  the  spirit,  greatens  and  guides 
the  spirit,  sweetens  and  strengthens  the  spirit;  and  there- 
fore, what  can  be  more  desirable  1  A  spirit  without  the 
gi-ace  of  Christ,  is  a  field  without  a  fence,  a  fool  without 
understanding  ;  it  is  a  horse  without  a  bridle,  and  a 
house  without  furniture  ;  it  is  a  ship  without  tackle, 
and  a  soldier  without  armour  ;  it  is  a  cloud  without  rain, 
and  a  carcass  without  a  soul  ;  it  is  a  tree  without  fruit, 
and  a  traveller  without  a  guide.  How  earnest,  there- 
fore, should  we  be  in  praying  to  God  for  grace  both  for 
ourselves  and  for  our  relations. 

It  was  in  April,  1696,  a  few  weeks  before  his  death, 
that  his  son's  father-in-law,  Robert  Warburton,  Esq.  of 
HefFerston  Grange  in  Cheshire,  w^as  gathered  to  his  grave 
in  peace,  in  a  good  old  age.  Upon  the  tidings  of  his 
death,  Hr.  Henry  wrote  thus  to  his  son  : — Your  fathers, 
where  are  theyl  Your  father-in-law  gone,  and  your 
own  father  going;  but  you  have  a  God-Father  that 
lives  for  ever.  He  was  wont,  sometimes,  to  subscribe 
his  letters,  —  Your  ever -loving,  but  not  ever- living, 
father." 

It  was  about  a  month  before  he  died,  that,  in  a  letter  to 
the  very  dear  friend  already  frequently  alluded  to,  Mr. 
Tallents,  of  Shrewsbury,  he  thus  wrote : — "  Methinks  it  is 


284 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 


strange,  that  it  should  be  your  lot  and  mine  to  abide  so 
long  on  earth  by  the  stuff,  when  so  many  of  our  friends 
are  dividing  the  spoil  above,  but  God  will  have  it  so  ;  and 
to  be  willing  to  live  in  obedience  to  his  holy  will,  is  as 
true  an  act  of  grace,  as  to  be  willing  to  die  when  he  calls, 
especially  when  life  is  labour  and  sorrow.  But  when  it 
is  labour  and  joy,  sei-vice  to  his  name,  and  some  measure 
of  success  and  comfort  in  serving  him  ;  when  it  is  to  stop 
a  gap,  and  stem  a  tide,  it  is  to  be  rejoiced  in ;  it  is  heaven 
upon  earth ;  nay,  one  would  think,  by  the  psalmist's  oft- 
repeated  plea,  that  it  were  better  than  to  be  in  heaven 
itself.    And  can  that  be  ? 

"  He  was  observed  frequently  in  pi-ayer,  to  beg  of 
God,  that  he  would  make  us  ready  for  that  which 
would  come  certainly,  and  might  come  suddenly.  One 
asking  him  how  he  did,  he  answered, — I  find  the  chips 
fly  off  apace,  the  tree  will  be  down  shortly. 

"  The  last  time  he  administered  the  Lord's  supper,  a 
fortnight  before  he  died,  he  closed  the  administration 
with  that  scripture,  '  It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we 
shall  be; '  not  yet,  but  it  will  shortly. 

"On  the  Sabbath,  June  21,  1696,  he  went  through 
the  work  of  the  day  with  his  usual  vigour  and  liveliness. 
He  was  then  preaching  over  the  first  chapter  of  St.  Peter's 
Second  Epistle,  and  was  that  day  on  the  words, '  Add  to 
your  faith  virtue.'  He  took  virtue  for  Christian  coumge 
and  resolution  in  the  exercise  of  faith  ;  and  the  last 
thing  he  mentioned,  in  which  Christians  have  need  of 
courage,  is  in  dying  ;  for,  as  he  often  said,  it  is  a  serious 
thing  to  die,  and  to  die  is  a  work  by  itself 

''  He  that  would  not  die  when  he  must,  and  he 


THE  RBY.  PHILIP  HEKRT. 


285 


that  would  die  when  he  must  not,  are  both  alike 
cowards. 

"  That  day  he  gave  notice,  both  morning  and  afternoon, 
with  much  affection  and  enlargement,  of  a  public  fast, 
which  was  appointed  by  authority  the  Friday  following, 
June  26  ;  pressing  his  hearers,  as  he  used  to  do  upon  such 
occasions,  to  come  in  a  prepared  frame  to  the  solemn 
services  of  the  day. 

"The  Tuesday  following,  June  23,  he  rose  at  six 
o'clock,  according  to  his  custom,  after  a  better  night's 
sleep  than  usual,  and  in  wonted  health.  Between  seven 
and  eight  o'clock  he  performed  famUy-woi-ship,  accord- 
ing to  the  usual  manner  ;  he  expounded  verj'  largely 
the  former  half  of  the  104th  Psalm,  and  sung  it ;  but 
he  was  somewhat  shorter  in  prayer  than  he  used  to 
be,  being  then,  as  it  was  thought,  taken  ill.  '  Blessed 
is  that  servant,  whom  his  Lord,  when  he  cometh,  shall 
find  so  doing.'  Immediately  after  prayer  he  retired 
to  his  chamber,  not  saj'ing  anything  of  his  illness,  but 
was  soon  after  found  upon  his  bed  in  great  extremity 
of  pain  ;  it  seemed  to  be  a  complicated  fit  of  the  stone 
and  colic  together,  in  verj'  great  extremity.  The  means 
that  had  been  used  to  give  him  relief  in  his  illness 
were  altogether  ineffectual.  He  had  not  the  least  in- 
termission or  remission  of  pain,  neither  up  nor  in  bed,  but 
was  continually  tossing  about.  He  had  said  sometimes, 
that  God's  Israel  may  find  Jordan  rough;  but  there 
is  no  remedy,  they  must  through  it  to  Canaan ;  and 
he  would  tell  of  a  good  man  who  used  to  say, — he  was 
not  so  much  afraid  of  death  as  of  dying.  We  know 
it  is  not  of  the  godly  people  it  is  said,  that  there  are  no 


286  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF 

bands  in  their  death,  and  yet  it  is  of  the  godly  alone 
it  can  be  said  that  their  end  is  peace,  their  death  gain, 
and  they  have  hope  in  it. 

"  When  the  exquisiteness  of  his  pain  forced  groans  and 
complaints  from  him,  he  would  presently  correct  himself 
with  a  patient  and  quiet  submission  to  the  hand  of  his 
heavenly  Father,  and  a  cheerful  acquiescence  in  his 
will.  I  am  ashamed,  said  he,  of  these  groans.  I 
want  virtue.  0  for  virtue  now  when  I  have  need  of  it, 
referring  to  the  subject  of  his  sermon  the  Lord's  day  be- 
fore. Forgive  me  that  I  groan  thus,  and  I  will  en- 
deavour to  be  silent.  But,  indeed,  my  stroke  is 
heavier  than  my  groaning.  It  is  true  what  Mr.  Baxter 
said  in  his  pain,  there  is  no  disputing  against  sense.  It 
was  his  trouble,  as  it  was  Mr.  Baxter's,  that  by  reason 
•of  his  bodily  pain  he  could  not  express  his  inward  com- 
fort ;  however,  it  was  that  with  which  God  graciously 
strengthened  him  in  his  soul.  He  said  to  those  about 
him,  they  must  remember  what  instructions  and  coun- 
sels he  had  given  them  when  he  was  in  health,  for  now 
he  could  say  but  little  to  them  ;  he  could  only  refer 
them  to  what  he  had  said,  as  that  which  he  would  live 
and  die  by 

"  It  was  two  or  three  hours  after  he'was  taken  ill 
before  he  w^ould  suffer  a  messenger  to  be  sent  to  Chester 
for  his  son,  and  for  the  doctor,  saying, — He  should  either 
be  better,  or  dead  before  they  could  come  ;  but  at  last  he 
said,  as  tlie  prophet  did  to  his  importunate  friends, — Send. 
About  eight  o'clock  that  evening  they  came,  and  found 
him  in  the  same  extremity  of  pain  under  which  he  had 
suffered  all  day;  and  nature  being  already  spent 


THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


287 


^  with  his  constant  and  indefatigable  labours  in  the 
work  of  the  Lord,  now  sunk  under  its  burthen,  and 
was  quite  disabled  from  grappling  with  so  many 
hours'  incessant  pain.  What  further  means  were  then 
used  proved  fruitless.  He  apprehended  himself  to  be 
going  apace,  and  said  to  his  son  when  he  came  in, — Oh 
son,  you  are  welcome  to  a  dying  father.  I  am  now  ready 
to  be  offered,  and  the  time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand. 
His  pain  continued  very  acute,  but  he  had  peace  within. 
To  some  of  his  neighbours  who  came  in  to  see  him, 
for  those  at  a  distance  had  not  notice  of  his  illness,  he 
said, — Oh,  make  sure  work  for  your  souls,  by  getting  an 
interest  in  Christ  while  you  are  in  health,  for  if  I  had 
that  work  to  do  now  what  would  become  of  me  ? 
But  I  bless  God  I  am  satisfied.  It  was  a  caution 
he  was  often  wont  to  give, — See  to  it,  that  your  work 
be  not  undone  when  your  time  is  done,  lest  you  be  un- 
done for  ever. 

"  Towards  ten  or  eleven  o'clock  that  night,  his  pulse  and 
dight  began  to  fail ;  of  the  latter  he  himself  took  notice, 
and  inferred  from  it  the  near  approach  of  his  dissolution. 
He  took  an  affectionate  farewell  of  his  dear  yoke-fellow, 
with  a  thousand  thanks  for  all  her  love,  and  care,  and 
tenderness  ;  and  left  a  blessing  for  all  his  children,  and 
their  dear  partners  and  little  ones,  that  were  absent. 
He  said  to  his  son,  who  sat  at  his  head, — -Son,  the  Lord 
bless  you,  and  grant  that  you  may  do  worthily  in  your 
generation,  and  be  more  serviceable  to  the  church  of  God 
than  I  have  been ;  such  was  his  great  humility  to  the 
last.  When  his  son  replied.  Oh,  Sir,  pray  for  me  that  I 
may  but  tread  in  your  steps  ;  he  answered, — Yea,  fallow 


288     LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  THE  REV.  PHILIP  HENRY. 


peace  and  holiness,  and  let  them  say  what  they  will, — 
More  he  would  have  said,  to  bear  his  dying  testimony  to 
the  way  in  which  he  had  walked,  but  nature  was  spent, 
and  he  had  not  strength  to  express  it. 

"  His  imderstanding  and  speech  continued  almost  to 
the  last  breath,  and  in  his  dying  agonies  he  was  still 
calling  upon  God,  and  committing  himself  to  him.  One 
of  the  last  words  he  said,  when  he  found  himself  just 
ready  to  depart,  was, — 0  death,  where  is  thy — ;  with 
that  his  speech  faltered,  and  within  a  few  minutes,  after 
about  sixteen  hours  illness,  he  quietly  breathed  out  his 
soul  into  the  embraces  of  his  dear  Redeemer,  whom  he 
had  trusted,  and  faithfully  served  in  the  work  of  the 
ministry,  about  forty-three  years.  He  departed  between 
twelve  and  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  June  24, 
Midsummer-day,  in  the  sixty-fifth  year  of  his  age. 
Happy,  thrice  happy,  he  to  whom  such  a  sudden  change 
was  no  surprise,  and  who  could  triumph  over  death,  as 
an  unstung,  disarmed  enemy,  even  when  he  made  so 
fierce  an  onset.  He  had  often  spoke  of  it  as  his  desire, 
that  if  it  were  the  will  of  God,  he  might  not  outlive  his 
usefulness  ;  and  it  pleased  God  to  grant  hira  his  desire, 
and  give  him  a  short  passage  from  the  pulpit  to  the 
kingdom,  from  the  height  of  his  usefulness,  to  receive 
the  recompence  of  reward.  So  was  it  ordered  by  Hino 
in  whose  hands  our  times  are." 


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